Living Daylights
by Isobel Rowan
Summary: The beings of light still toy with Voyager. Then Voyager's adults are enslaved by a mysterious ammonia-based race, leaving the children to die on a dead ship. To make matters worse, the Borg seek CJ and 7's daughters. TIME ENOUGH Pt 3. AO. Lesbian.
1. Prologue

**Living Daylights**

**Prologue: Captain's Log**

Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 61195.15

Voyager has been stranded in the Delta Quadrant for more than fifteen years. Her once gleaming hull of distinguished gray is marred by black streaks from phaser fire or any number of other weapons during the countless battles for survival.

The warp drive has been rebuilt from scavenged parts every year for the past seven. But thanks to the ingenuity and resourcefulness of my chief Engineer Lt. Torres and the crew, Voyager keeps purring along. We've acquired so much new technology, partly to keep Voyager alive and partly as defense, that it will probably take Starfleet engineers decades to fully understand the hybridized Intrepid-class starship.

We've managed to limit the skirmishes with the Borg, though they've left us unmolested for nearly four years. At first, I suspected the Borg Queen was up to something. It's been so long since we've had contact perhaps they were stung once too often. To be on the safe side, we've managed to travel on the outermost edge of Borg space, skirting large concentrations of them. The cautious course had added at least ten years, at current speeds, to get home. But in the grand scheme, it's a mere blink compared to the fifty years we've still got a head of us.

Our reason for caution lies not in the fragility of an aging ship, but in the care for our offspring. I never imagined that I'd be commanding a generation ship. There have been brave Starfleet captains who accommodated youths on board. But Voyager was a small ship, never designed for deep space or exploration or for a mission this long. It wasn't what I expected, but there were mitigating circumstance beyond our control. Now, I wouldn't have it any other way. They are the reason we've kept our bow pointed toward home.

As a result, 154 crewmembers has swelled to 233 and holding steady. All of our couples have voluntarily limited their reproduction through the usual methods. With limited resources and finite space, it's logical to do so. That's one decision I haven't had to involve myself in as Captain and I'm eternally grateful. As it stands, housing accommodations are cramped. Children are bunking with their parents in single- and double-room quarters. We've made non-standard use of materials we've found on planets to afford some privacy. But that is not our immediate concern.

As always, we scan for water and safe nutritional resources. Our hydroponics bay is teeming with all manner of flora, all grown for consumption and oxygenation. We've even added comfort food, courtesy of a race whose origins were Terran. We grow cocoa beans, corn and potatoes to name a few. I think my crew will end up writing the quintessential Starfleet textbook on survival.

Our children are educated in the time-honored traditions of mathematics, history, Federation literature, survival and self-defense and anything we can to not only ensure their survival, but to ensure the transmission of our values and cultures. Regretfully, they are not able to run in a field or swim in alien oceans or lakes. But, like their parents, they are resourceful. The constant challenge to Lt. Tal Celes, who administers Voyager Academy, is to keep them busy and learning. The ebb in either case means they turn their attention to mischief. But as my dear wife, Seven of Nine, so often tells me: mischief in youth is ingenuity in adulthood.

The beings of light, that mysterious force, have pushed the ship further away from Sector Zero Zero One. We have made several attempts to contact them using the thirteen crystal skulls. The first attempt resulted in the death of the crewman handling the final skull. Several attempts have been made to integrate the photonic beings into the matrices of the Emergency Medical Hologram. The integration is short-lived and the Doctor's attempts to communicate are either rebuffed or ineffective. Yet, the beings still seem to have an interest in our direction. The logical course heading they appear to point us to would take us out of the known galaxy into black galactic space. We have no idea if it is merely a cruelty or some bizarre desire or need.

There have been fewer friendly races in this region of space, a mere twenty light years from the edge. Resources are fewer here and the fear of Borg threats greater. While the scientist in me is fascinated by the prospect of being the first Starfleet Captain to catalog this region of space, the mother and wife in me are terrified. But we march on toward home.

Computer, end log.


	2. Adolescent Hell

**"Living Daylights"**  
**Chapter 1: Adolescent Hell**

A brigade of Borg cubes were hurtling through space toward the lone U.S.S. Locutus. The young captain, his left eye framed by a Borg implant, stared at the viewscreen.

A trillion calculations a second sifted through his Borg-enhanced brain. He'd taken the usual precautions. The Red Alert klaxon was sounding; shields were modulating; every crewman was armed. But he knew his ship and crew could not hold off the barbarians at the gate indefinitely.

The Starfleet science officer plucked at her blue and black uniform, scratching under the short turtleneck. Dani Janeway tossed her red hair back, as another former Borg drone traversed the Bridge.

She savored the catlike saunter of Mezoti as she crossed the deck. Mezoti's three braids framed her face, but did nothing to hide the round Borg implant at her left temple. Out of her usual biosuit, Mezoti was wearing Starfleet gold and black, as if she'd been born to wear it. In fact, Voyager had rescued her as a young drone, along with three others, less than a decade ago.

As she neared the science station, Mezoti turned her chin to the redhead as she passed, a flirtatious smile on her lips. "Jetsam, mate," she whispered, thumbing behind her.

Dani quirked a corner of her mouth at her sense of humor. Mezoti, in her thirst for knowledge, had studied every bit of Starfleet space-faring history, expanding to add Earth's maritime history to be thorough. Just yesterday, she'd explained to a dreamy-eyed Dani at the midday meal that ancient sailors would jettison useless cargo overboard to lighten the load during times of emergency. That tidbit from anyone else would have garnered a yawn from the Captain's oldest daughter, but, for Mezoti, she was enthralled.

Dani was also accustomed to dry Borg humor, having been the recipient of it often enough from her own mother.

Dani's smile vanished when her eyes met First Officer Naomi Wildman, seated beside Captain Icheb. Naomi lifted her chin in that irritating imitation of Dani's mother and flicked a brow at the viewscreen, urging her subordinate to pursue her duties.

In the next second, Borg drones materialized on the Bridge with an eerie green shimmering light. They brandished menacing assimilation tubules. Phaser fire arced across the Bridge. Some Borg were cut down and dematerialized, while some crew were being forced to their knees. Ruptured conduits and damaged console stations began to crack and pop with the invasion.

When a Borg took hold of Dani's wrists, she burst out laughing. The Borg tipped his head at her reaction, making no other moves. Dani tried to stop laughing, but when she saw Naomi's infuriated glare, she fell over in hysterics. When she opened her eyes, Naomi was standing over her, with fists on her hips. Dani wiped tears from her eyes.

"Computer, halt program," Captain Icheb said with none of the irritation present in his First Officer.

Shannon Janeway's blonde ponytail swung side to side as she marched to the Science station from her place at Communications. Her prominent chin was deeply dimpled and her skin flawless. Though only seven, she appeared to be at last fifteen years old due to exposure to radiation from a Class X nebula. Her body was showing the curves of adolescence and the promise of generous breasts, like her Borg mother. All of Voyager's children had been exposed, appearing older to the casual observer.

Shannon toed her sister's leg. "What's your problem?"

Dani pulled herself up. "This game is so old, even the holographic Borg are bored." Then she fell again to a brief paroxysm of chuckles and repeated "Borg are bored" several times.

"I didn't hear any suggestions from you on how we should spend our holodeck privilege," Naomi said.

Dani looked up at Mezoti who was leaning against a console with her arms crossed. "I've been thinking," Dani said with a playful lilt.

Mezoti raised an eyebrow, as if that were a first.

Dani squelched a laughed and rubbed her lips with a knuckle. "Why don't we invent a new game?"

"Strict control of parameters will remain the same, regardless of new scenarios," said Azan, who stood at the Security station with his arms crossed.

Mezoti offered Dani a hand that she took and jumped up to stand next to her, their shoulders touching.

"I was thinking of Velocity—"

The group of adult-like children groaned, except for Icheb. "I must terminate my amusement," he announced. "My duty shift begins in less than one hour."

He nodded to Mezoti and left. The other children stared in a mildly jealous malaise. The remaining three boys and five girls, along with the forty other children on Voyager, were still relegated to the classroom and the few diversionary outlets left to them on a ship traveling at faster-than-light speed across the galaxy.

Rebi, Azan's twin brother, threw himself into the holographic command chair. It was an oddly childish posture for someone who appeared outwardly to be a full-grown man with a shadow of facial hair. "Velocity is predictable," he said in a monotone.

"Velocity is stupid," Dukat Wildman said. He brushed his long dark hair from his obsidian eyes. The seven-year-old, like Shannon Janeway, looked to be a teenager, complete with a patchy beard and broad shoulders.

"With…" Dani counted their numbers. "With eight players. Boys against girls?" She playfully leaned into Mezoti.

"But there are only three boys here," Naomi said. "It would be unfair."

"Okay," Dani said without missing a beat. "_You_ can be on their team."

Naomi frowned, crossed her arms and looked away.

"But we ratchet up the game to _Extreme_," Dani said, with a glint.

Azan pulled himself up, placing his head over the handrail behind the chair. "I hope Extreme does not mean what I think it means."

"Extreme means extremely likely to irritate Captain Janeway," Naomi replied.

Dani's smile dropped when she looked at Naomi. "This'll be different."

"How?"

"For starters we'll stay _inside_ the ship."

"Extreme orbit surfing was kinda fun though," Shannon said with an impish grin. Dukat grinned foolishly at the blonde.

While orbiting a friendly planet, the group had used environmental suits to ride scavenged deck plates against the vertical winds of the thermosphere in a wild ride down to the surface from 380 kilometers up. They had lost holodeck privileges for a month, along with replicator rations. Dani, as the ringleader, had to scrub the EPS conduits for a few days. But she had declared to her friends that it had been worth it.

"I hope extreme doesn't mean you're going to cut artificial gravity again," Naomi replied.

Dani made to talk and then chuckled into her shoulder. "No, that wasn't as much fun with all the vomiting," she said, earning groans of disgust from the crowd.

Naomi looked away with a blush. Her stomach had been unable to take weightlessness.

"The extreme part, Commander Wildman," Dani continued, "Will be this. Reprogram the computer to count the target impacts on each of us."

"Oh, no!" Naomi said, raising her hand and turning around.

"Why not? The safety protocols are still intact," Dani mentioned.

"Only because you cannot circumvent the four layers of new security measures," Mezoti pointed out.

"No," Dani said carefully. "It's because I _respect _my limits."

There was a round hoots and catcalls. The only one she reacted to was Mezoti, who shook her head. Dani's intent gaze was interrupted by Naomi stomping to the exit arch.

"Don't go, Naomi! We need an eighth."

"I don't like your games," she hissed.

"You'll like this one," Dani said trying out her most persuasive voice. "Because in Extreme Velocity you'll be able to tackle Azan." Dani raised her eyes suggestively, making Naomi blush and Azan stare at her.

"Oh, c'mon," Dani said. "We know you're warp coil hot for each other."

Naomi's jaw muscles rippled. Then she turned and fled.

The door had barely slid closed when Dani felt a hard thud at her shoulder. "That hurt," she complained to Shannon's fist.

"Why are you so mean to her?" Shannon asked.

"What? Like none of us knows that."

"We _all_ know, Dani. We all know every damn thing about each other. But we usually respect each other enough to keep private stuff _private_."

"Like no one talks about how you're warp coil hot for Mezoti," Duke said.

Dani's freckles disappeared behind a sheet of red. She'd always held a soft spot in her heart for the impish son of Commander Chakotay, but this was new. Once he'd hit puberty at four, he liked to compete with her. It was fun at first, but now it was annoying and she was stuck with him because Shannon was stuck on him.

She was about to open her mouth when Shannon took the boy's hand. "Let's go, Duke." Dani recognized the look on her sister's face. _You owe me._ This time, with everyone trailing out after them, except Mezoti, Dani would be grateful to pay the price to her sister.

Suddenly the holodeck's gray scaffolding appeared and it became more interesting to Dani than facing the object of her latest crush.

"You are uncomfortable," Mezoti said.

Dani finally looked up at Mezoti, whose eyes were crinkled. _What I wouldn't give to be immune to embarrassment_, she thought. Neither Mezoti nor her Borg mother knew any shame. It was one of many injustices in the universe.

"So are you surprised?" Dani asked, barely able to keep eye contact.

"Surprised that Naomi wishes for more than friendship with Azan? I am."

"No," Dani said, looking away painfully. "That I do."

"_You_ desire more than friendship with Azan?"

Dani snapped her head back, searching Mezoti's face. "With you," she whispered.

Understanding lit Mezoti's face. "I have never considered our relationship more than friendship."

"Is that because you don't like me?"

"You are a satisfactory acquaintance. However, I do not believe I have considered you beyond that parameter."

"Is that because you don't like girls?"

Mezoti tipped her head to one side, studying Dani with a frankness that made her blush again. "I favor everyone equally; however, I am a practicing _hetero_sexual."

"Practicing?" Dani squeaked. She felt like she'd just been hit by a photon torpedo spread square on the chest.

"Icheb and I copulate."

Dani groaned as she looked away, rubbing her eyes with a middle finger and thumb to blot out the naked festival that paraded before her eyes.

"You do not approve."

"Well, no," she said, breathing like she'd just run a marathon. "I thought you were flirting with _me_."

"Your approval is irrelevant," Mezoti said, after some time as if she'd been calculating the idea using an internal flow chart of emotional response.

"So, when you walk by me and tweak my shirt with a pinky…or when you call me 'mate' like a moment ago, you were…?"

"It was neither flirtatious nor otherwise. A smile is nothing more than an expression of my pleasure. And you were dozing during the simulation. What would have been a more appropriate response than to remind you of the consequences? I do not see how any action or commentary I utilized could be construed as an open invitation for a sexual advance from you. Furthermore—"

"You know what?" Dani shouted, not really meaning to. She rubbed her mouth with a palm. "Look, Mezoti. I'm sorry. I misunderstood. Okay?"

She turned to walk away. Mezoti tried to catch her arm, but Dani yanked it back. "I'll talk to you later."

"I am confused," Mezoti said, still standing in the middle of the holodeck.

The look of bewilderment on her friend's normally placid face melted Dani's heart and she stood still at the archway. "What are you confused about?"

"Are we not friends?"

"Sure," Dani said with a shrug.

"But you are angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Ah," Mezoti said.

Dani put her hands on her hips and leaned forward.

Mezoti studied the pose in interest, oblivious to the play of emotions across Dani's face.

"Since we're still talking, why not me? Is it that you just like boys?"

"I require a certain amount of predictability and rationality from my partner. You possess neither."

Dani couldn't help the fast blinks. First, Tal marries Whats-his-yawn and then has his baby and now this.

"Are you damaged?" Mezoti inquired.

"Hardly," Dani lied, throwing in a forced chuckle.

"Excellent, as my analysis is incomplete. Furthermore, you are too—"

"I'm done," Dani said, waving behind her and exited the holodeck.

=/\=

The next day, Captain Kathryn Janeway stepped out of her bedroom, fully dressed in Starfleet red and black. The sight of her wife, Seven of Nine, dressed in peculiar clothes stopped her cold.

Her slate blue eyes traveled the length of curvaceous blonde Borg in front of her. Seven stood in front of the replicator station in their quarters. She was topped in a pale gray chambray shirt, sleeves folded a third of the way up. Some clothes were draped over one shoulder. Her long legs were clad in faded black denim and her feet were shod with brown hiking boots.

Janeway looked up in time to catch dark blue and white fabric as it sailed across the air toward her. "What's this?" she asked, as she snatched them from the air.

"Your attire," Seven replied. "Today is the first day of your vacation."

Janeway's surprise turned to confusion. "But…."

Seven's eyebrow arched vexingly.

"I'm the Captain," Janeway stammered.

Seven crossed her arms. "And captains earn furloughs, do they not?"

"But we haven't been to a friendly starbase in—I don't know how long."

"For the next seven days, we will vacate on the holodeck."

Seven days of unadulterated Seven of Nine. One hundred sixty eight hours of uninterrupted Borg. There were worse fates and no better reward. So Janeway flashed a crooked smile as she stepped closer. She inhaled the cottony, strawberry fragrance of her wife. The Captain tugged the collar of the crisp shirt back, revealing Seven's collarbone. She pressed her lips there. "You look good enough to eat," she murmured against the porcelain skin.

Seven's hand sensuously slid up and down Kathryn's hip. "That is on the agenda," Seven replied.

"What's on the agenda?" a young voice across the room asked.

The two women dropped their hands to their side simultaneously. Janeway added a droop of her head, letting out the smallest sigh. She loved the girls, but eking out one-on-one time with Seven was like waiting for a personal audience with the Borg queen.

Golden blonde beauty Shannon Janeway, sauntered in, wearing exactly the same style of gear as her Borg mother. She was a different combination of Hansen and Janeway than her sister Dani. Her skin was like porcelain with a faint chin dimple on a strong chin set between broad cheeks.

She stood between her parents, nearly eye level with the Captain, though she was only seven years old.

Seven pulled out a chair for their youngest child. "Good morning, Shannon Astrid. Your breakfast is ready."

The young girl kissed both parents on the cheek and slipped into the chair, nibbling as she did. "I'm hoping from the way we're dressed we aren't going to be subjected to that creepy Burleigh manor," she replied around a mouthful.

"Shannon, it is customary to wait for everyone at the table," Seven replied. "And no, we will not be visiting Burleigh manor anytime soon, perhaps never."

Shannon quirked her lips. "Too bad," she said without a shred of remorse. "Dani really, really liked the frilly dress and all the tight curls."

Seven gave her daughter a half-amused, half-chiding look. "Eridani found that vacation as alluring as—"

"Cap finds the nature stuff?" She beamed a smile at Kathryn, who had nearly entered her bedroom. But she pivoted back and turned, worry etched on her brow. "Where are we going, darling?"

Seven addressed her reply to them both. "We will vacation on holographic Lake George."

A cry of protest came from the table. "I hate fishing!" Shannon looked to Cappie for support, both of them more disdainful of the rustic surroundings.

"Too damn bad!" The reply came from their eldest daughter. Dani Janeway was fifteen and nearly as tall as her Borg mother, with hair still painfully too light to be considered anything but strawberry. She was more sinewy like Kathryn, with smaller breasts.

"Why can't we go sailing or to a nice warm beach somewhere?" Shannon replied.

"Shannon," Seven replied. "It was Eridani's turn to choose. She expressed the desire to asphyxiate aquatic vertebrates by removing them from their liquid environment."

"Sorry, Cap," Shannon said with a quirk of her nose. "But Dani's turns could not be averted, even though they really suck plasma exhaust."

"Hey!" Dani said. "My turns do not suck."

Shannon gave her sister a mocking look before biting down hard on the tines of her fork. Dani narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.

Janeway sauntered back, putting a hand on both of her daughters' shoulders before hostilities escalated.

"Remember, girls, it's not _what_ we do. It's that we are _together_."

Both of them rolled their eyes at Cappie, whose head lolled forward and her arms fell to her side when she felt them punch each other behind her back. "Please tell me you two won't be acting like a bunch of—"

"Children?" Shannon asked with a raised eyebrow. "Which we are, if I may remind you?"

"Oh, there's no need to do that," Janeway replied rubbing the back of her neck as she lifted her head. "Ever. Your Mother and I are well aware of your ages."

"I'm seven, Cap," Shannon responded.

"But you act like two," Dani whispered.

"Ladies!" Janeway said pointedly. "I am ordering both of you to act your ages…" She spied down her nose at Shannon. "Not you. You can act twice your age. We…." She pointed between she and Seven. "Are _not_ going to endure seven days of this on the holodeck. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Captain," they both said with sufficient contrition.

She didn't trust the glints in their eyes but left it at that. Dividing her attention three ways for the next week, rather than the usual three hundred ways was a helluva lot easier. And to be the recipient of Seven of Nine's laser-like focus would be heaven. Her smile was tight and mysterious as she did a springy about-face. "We leave at seven hundred," she said, before disappearing into her quarters.

=/\=

Lake George sparkled under the holographic sun. A gentle breeze from the north cooled the sisterly pair as they lounged on a bank under a densely leafed Maple tree. Four fishing poles were propped up nearby.

Shannon lay on a quilted blanket stretched out with both arms under her head. Dani sat against the tree trunk, when one of the poles tinkled a bell.

Dani sat straight up and looked around, squinting her eyes to find her mother. "Where's Mom?"

Shannon yawned around. "Dunno," she said. "I think her and Cap went over there." She thumbed in a direction toward the tents.

"Well, bloody gel pack," Dani muttered.

"You can haul your own fish, you know?" Shannon said, pushing up on her elbows. "It's only holographic fish, you big baby."

"_You_ get it then!" Dani said.

Shannon let her shoulders shake as Dani frowned. Dani looked around again, not seeing her mother, she lifted her chin and cried out loudly. " Mom!" Dani let the word take on at least four notes. It just echoed through the holographic valley.

"I think she's ignoring you."

"Why do they come fishing if they aren't going to fish?" she asked crossly. She stomped over and yanked up the pole, unlocking the reel and slowly pulling it back. The rod bowed forward. Dani pursed her lips and tugged back. "Get the net ready, will ya?"

She heard her sister's sarcastic gurgle, but she was intent on getting that fish. She'd had Tom Paris alter the algorithm of the holoprogram so that she couldn't possibly haul in every fish. The fun was in trying.

With a flick of her wrist, a big rainbow trout came flopping out of the lake, tethered to the string. Dani leaned back and reeled it as fast as she could to keep from losing it. She swung the rod and the unruly fish toward the shore, but there was no net because her sister was still lying on the blanket.

So Dani growled as she hoisted the thrashing fish onto her sister's chest and face. Her sister's howl of fury overpowered the hum of cicadas and Dani's laughter.

"You're going to pay for that!"

"It's just a holographic fish," Dani said in mimicry.

"It reeks!" Shannon stood up. The sun glinted on her golden blonde hair, as well as the wet spots on her face and chest.

"Yeah, like you!"

Shannon launched herself at full speed, hitting Dani in the mid-section at full steam. Dani lost her hold on the rod, stumbled before finally falling backward onto the muddy shore. Shannon fell on Dani's stomach, forcing her to expel a giant "oof."

Before even catching her breath, Dani had twisted her sister over, pushing the back of her head into the mud.

=/\=

Earlier, Seven of Nine baited all four of the fishing rods and propped them up. "I must discuss an urgent matter with Cappie," she announced, drawing a startled look from her spouse. "We will return within five point three minutes."

Dani was crouched by the poles, checking their stability. She waved her mother on without looking back. Shannon was spreading a blanket out, lost in her own thoughts. "Okay, ma," she said.

Seven smiled faintly in Cappie's direction as she held out her human hand. Janeway glanced once at the girls. "Where are we going?"

Seven kissed her clasped hand. "Our tent," she whispered.

Janeway frowned as she picked her way through the thick underbrush.

"You are disappointed?"

Janeway snorted. "I was hoping you'd tell me you were going to show me your…." The Captain waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"My vagina?"

The Captain got a pained expression at her wife's predilection to using scientific names. It usually wasn't a problem, except they weren't very sexy.

"My mammary glands, perhaps?"

"You're making fun of me," Kathryn said with a quirk of a corner of her mouth.

"I am merely inquiring about your interests with my usually incisive manner," she said with a raised eyebrow, as she stepped toward their tent.

It was a two-person tent that was orange and green. It lay at the foot of a small rock outcropping from the main hilltop. Water trickled down and around toward a small stream that fed the lake.

Seven pulled back the flap and indicated for Kathryn to enter.

Kathryn lightly patted Seven's cheek. "We've been married more than seven years, darling. I know you."

Then she crawled in, followed closely by Seven. Janeway sat lotus style on their joined sleeping bags. "It's lovely," she said of the holographic design of their home for the next week.

Seven leaned close into her partner, her breath raising the fine hairs of Janeway's neck. "I have recently learned of the seven year itch," she whispered, drawing a chuckle from the Captain.

"It's a myth," she replied.

Seven quirked a brow, the second in as many minutes.

"Well, I do have an itch," Janeway conceded with a voice growing huskier. "That only you can scratch but it has nothing to do with time."

Seven leaned in closer, her lips hovering deceptively close to the Captain's. "Then I believe I have the proper remedy."

Janeway tugged Seven's collar and kissed her hard. "Do you now?"

Seven surprised Kathryn by pulling away. "You must follow me."

Kathryn watched with interest as Seven crawled toward not the opening, but the opposite end. The tent shimmered when she broke its holographic surface.

When Kathryn followed her on hands and knees, on the other side, she saw first Seven's feet over finely polished marble flooring. Seven reached down and helped her partner to stand. Janeway gasped to see an entire bedroom suite hidden under the rock outcropping.

A luxurious bed dominated the room. Janeway ran her fingertips along the rich emerald Tholian silk coverlet and bronze satin underneath. She meandered to the rock fireplace on the other end, where a fire crackled and its warmth called out to her hand that she stretched out.

She glanced at the two large glass patio doors that were opened to a balcony, where the richly embroidered black curtains ruffled in the chilled breeze. Far below, foamy waves crashed on a pristine beach. "Seven, it's lovely."

"It is a replica of the galactic presidential suite for the Natlantis Hedony Hotel on Risa," she said proudly. "Or so I'm told."

"So we're staying here?" she asked coyly, slinking toward her partner.

"We will vacate in the lap of luxury," Seven replied.

"Is that fair?"

"Fairness is irrelevant," she stated. "I cannot give you a trip to Risa. So I impressed Mr. Paris into programming this bit of Risa on the holodeck for us."

Kathryn slipped her arms under Seven's to stroke the woman's back. The kiss she offered was tender and heartfelt. "I was afraid we were going to have to 'rough it' in the wild."

"You do not appreciate 'roughing it,' despite being raised by traditionalists."

"But I can do it," she whispered, kissing Seven's chin.

"Yes, you can do many things, my Captain," Seven whispered, locking her arms around Janeway's waist. "You can drive yourself to work eighteen hour shifts during emergencies. You can push yourself to read voluminous text to catch up on irrelevant paperwork—" Seven smiled faintly at Kathryn's chuckle, the vibrations echoed along the Borg's torso to inhabit the tender space between her legs. "You can donate your life's blood in the field of battle. You can raise two wonderful daughters—"

Kathryn looked up with a crooked grin. "I thought we both did that."

"We are in the process," she replied. "However, the line of reasoning is to lead you to understand I consider it my duty to accommodate some regeneration for you."

"Oh, darling," Kathryn whispered. "You do. You do so much for me."

"This illusion…." Seven waved dismissively at the room. "For seven days will be our home apart from your mistress the ship…"

Janeway's smile brightened to show teeth. "Tut tut, Seven of Nine. Jealousy is a human emotion."

"I am not envious, Kathryn. It was a mere statement of fact."

This was an old argument and Janeway knew she was walking on thin ice. But still, her partner's prickly sensitivity to an inanimate object was more amusing than it should be, especially after so long. "Go on, Seven. I apologize."

"So this illusion will be our oasis for seven days away from the ship, our duties and the children."

Kathryn glanced back at their entrance. "You don't think our dear children will find us in here?"

"Impossible," Seven said with complete conviction.

Kathryn gave her an admonishing look. Memory took her back to the last time Seven of Nine had made that declaration, also with complete confidence, about the ability of the children to manipulate a holodeck simulation.

=/\=

_Seven of Nine had arranged for the family to live at Burleigh Manor for a few days of Kathryn's virtual shore leave. Kathryn had retained her identity as Mrs. Davenport, while Seven had assumed the role of Mrs. Templeton. _

_Kathryn remembered laughing herself into a hiccupping fit when Seven had given Dani and Shannon their "assignments" (albeit temporary) in the Burleigh household. Dani was a scullery maid, where she cleaned and scoured the kitchen floor, stoves, sinks, pots and dishes. She had found wearing the dull brown dresses, tall, tight boots and kerchiefs to be particularly demeaning. _

_Shannon had served as a housemaid, who ironed, washed, and cleaned the house, along with other tasks along those lines. She had enjoyed the dresses, but became ill-tempered when she could not dress in the finery of Lady Beatrice Burleigh, the Lord's daughter. _

_Seven had wanted Shannon to appreciate the advantages of living in the 24th Century, while Dani's duties were a punishment for mischief, namely her ill-conceived plan to coax the other children to help hack into shipsystems to disrupt artificial gravity in the holodeck. _

_Lt. Commander Tuvok, several members of his security team, and Captain Janeway had found nearly fifty students on holodeck two floating around in weightless suspension. Some, like Naomi Wildman and Azan, were vomiting from the gravity disruption; while others, like Shannon, Dukat, Mezoti and Dani, were shoving off of each other in a buoyant exploration of Newton's Third Law of Thermodynamics, namely for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Each collision sent both floaters careening in opposite directions. Dani had nearly liquefied with staccato guffaws, while Mezoti presented the cool and distant Borg reaction after the entire episode. That is, until Cappie appeared. _

_During a grueling debriefing in the Captain's Ready Room, Dani had pled her innocence. "But I was told to cut the AG," Dani had protested to a furious Captain Janeway. _

_The Captain had given her a warning look. "By whom?"_

"_The green text," she had said, with a completely benign expression. _

_Captain Janeway crossed her arms and glanced at Seven of Nine, who had arched a dubious brow. _

_Reading her parents, Dani's protests grew louder and more urgent. "I'm not blow-screening here!"_

"_It's too mundane, Dani," Janeway had finally said, shaking her head in disappointment._

"_These messages have materialized during significant events," Seven had pointed out. They had all catalogued the messages and their timing, but found little to pinpoint their origin or rationale._

"_Holodeck pranks do not qualify—and furthermore…." Janeway said, talking over her objecting daughter. "If you're going to lie, at least give your mother and I some credit by inventing a more credible answer."_

_So Dani's reprimand had been compounded by the actual event and the apparent cover-up; hence, the severity of the retribution. _

_But both girls then conspired against their parents in the simulation. Seven of Nine was technically correct that the simulation could not be altered by either child's uncanny ability to crack the sophisticated Starfleet and Borg encryption codes that Lt. Tuvok now employed against the ship's adolescents. _

_So Dani and Shannon did what other resourceful miscreants did. They did an end run on their Borg mother by manipulating the simulation characters indirectly. _

=/\=

_The Burleigh children's governess, Mrs. Davenport—complete with tight auburn curls, dark matronly dress and petticoats—was conferring with the head parlor maid, Mrs. Templeton in her bedchamber. _

_Janeway's Mrs. Davenport had been completely bewitched by the vision of Seven of Nine as a gothic maidservant. Seven's halo of tightly wound columns of blonde curls accentuated the column of porcelain neck where Mrs. Davenport longed to place sensuous kisses. Seven's Mrs. Templeton's gray fitted dress cinched her bodice tightly around her considerable, corset-bound breasts while at the same time managing to reveal nothing of the treasure underneath. The bell shaped skirt hid layers and layers of petticoats, like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. _

_The vision of a Borg in petticoats was simply too much for Mrs. Davenport. Added to her bubbling need for all-too-infrequent intimacy with her spouse, the woman was bearing other stresses: the pampered, albeit holographic children of an indulgent father; and the addition of two mischievous players to the gothic setting._

_It all made what should have been a relaxing three-day holiday into a seething cauldron of gothic insanity and lust. _

_When Seven's Mrs. Templeton had stepped into her own personal parlor on the pretext of household business, Mrs. Davenport had flirted outrageously with high Victorian flare, charming Seven out of her petticoats and frills in short order. _

_Both naked, Mrs. Davenport was armed with the strap-on dildo the Captain had received from the Boolarai as a wedding present so many years before. Mrs. Templeton lay receptively prone—and completely in character—as a demure Victorian servant wide-eyed with unvarnished astonishment at the governess' sexual prowess. _

_The governess was deeply committed between the chief maid's creamy legs, inducting her to the delights of Sapphic pleasure. Their mingling mewls were low when Lord Burleigh burst into the room. _

"_Merciful heavens!" he declared in a deep voice constricted with shock. _

_Mrs. Davenport slipped out of Mrs. Templeton. Her slicked dildo sprouting from the auburn thatch lured his eyes like a glint of gold to a greedy soul. In her haste to cover herself, Mrs. Davenport fell off the bed, her backside hitting the hard wood flooring with a thud and without so much as a blanket (or bloomers) to soften the tumble._

"_Kathryn!" Mrs. Templeton had cried, reaching out a nanosecond too late to prevent her spouse's untimely, immodest and mortifying spill._

_Mrs. Templeton's cry drew the antagonizing scrutiny of Lord Burleigh. In typical Borg fashion, Seven was unconcerned with her state of undress, or the signs of its recent arousal, including the taut nipples of her teats and the dew-soaked "fruitful vine." _

"_Mrs. Templeton!" the man shouted. "Cover thyself!"_

_She had managed to take Mrs. Davenport's hand, but the command made her look down at herself. Her breasts were bouncing and the widower Lord Burleigh had a full view of her mons and pubic hair at the present, notwithstanding any earlier view of her labia. Distracted, Seven lost her grip on Mrs. Davenport's hand, leaving the woman again to the brutal laws of gravity. _

_The governess plummeted again to the floor with a hard thud. This time, a thoroughly modern invective crossed her lips._

"_Mrs. Davenport!" Lord Burleigh protested. "That is exceedingly unladylike."_

_While Mrs. Templeton complied with an order from the Lord of the Manor, Mrs. Davenport managed to rise to her feet, rubbing her bare backside while the glistening turquoise cock bobbed between her legs. _

_Removing his own silk robe, Lord Burleigh threw it at his children's governess. "Have you no decency, madam?"_

"_Have you none, m'lord?" Janeway's Mrs. Davenport managed to muster a great deal more dignity than she felt. "These are my personal compartments. Are you in the habit of spying on your servants—"_

_The man bristled. "I most certainly am not spying and I resent—!"_

"_For your own puerile interests?"_

"_How dare you, Mrs. Davenport! How dare you defile my home with your lewd behavior. How have you managed to seduce the likes of my good Mrs. Templeton…?" _

_Seven managed to lift a chin in pride, settling back into her role with a great deal of ease, particularly as a victim in this unexpected turn. Her reaction made it difficult for Janeway to stifle a grin. _

"_Is it so amusing to sully the good reputation of a gentlewoman?" Burleigh asked. Then almost as an afterthought, Lord Burleigh's blue eyes widened. "What of my children? Have you—"_

"_I am a fine governess, m'lord," she replied tartly. "This is a personal matter between Mrs. Templeton and I. Your children received the wealth of my knowledge and guidance—"_

"_I should hope not too much guidance. I shall summon a constable at once. Furthermore, it is quite apparent to me that your poor children are doomed to a hard life in the kitchens."_

_Janeway defied Lord Burleigh by dropping his robe and remained naked with the dildo at full mast. She stepped closer, narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "What did you say m'lord?"_

_He cast a cautious glance at Mrs. Templeton. Only then did both woman notice a small contraption in his hand. It was a wood plank with a small scalp of wires. At one end was a battery-like box and on the other was an incandescent bulb, shining in unadorned glory. "Your daughter, Eridani—what a peculiar name—she took a curious interest in my invention—" _

_He raised it, utterly disinterested now in its glow. "She said you would be interested in it as well. It's why I…"_

_During his explanation, Janeway had shed the sexual aid, hiding it in its small attaché while she dressed rapidly. Seven was already fully clothed._

"_Computer, freeze program!" Janeway snapped. With all ambient sounds silenced, the faint echo of howling laughter could be heard on the other end of the holodeck. _

_A sardonic expression touched Janeway's lips. "I think we've been had."_

"_I was not had," Seven said, pulling out the kerchief tucked in her sleeve. She patted daintily beside her nose. "Alas, I was _nearly_ had. And I weep at the difference."_

"_Alas?" Janeway asked dryly. _

"_T'is true," Seven replied, dabbing now the corners of her mouth._

_A crooked grin spread across Kathryn's lips. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"_

"_Indeed," she whispered. "It was most pleasant until the time index when our union was frustrated."_

_Janeway pulled Seven to her roughly. It was an action of profound desire and not disrespect. The Captain kissed Seven hard on the lips, relinquishing her the instant she turned to the bedchamber door. _

"_Let's go find the culprits," she said in a voice she recognized as a starship captain. _

_So Janeway stopped to leisurely adjusted her skirt and smiled demurely at her companion. "Shall we?"_

=/\=

_Burleigh Manor was large, in a holographic sense. They could walk in circles literally on the holodeck but yet find the three stories and the cellar an endless expanse of dark, Gothic atmosphere. The program was frozen at the precise moment of a lightning strike at the front of the house, facilitating the search for their two daughters. _

_After ten minutes with little success, Captain Janeway usurped the command from Mrs. Davenport. "Computer, end program!" _

_The gray walls of the Manor dissolved into nothingness, leaving four figures—two on one end of the holodeck standing side by side in petticoats and dresses and the other two crouched in dirty dresses on the other. _

_The mothers marched up to the giggling pair, who remained crouched and regarded only the bare feet of the women. The girls were playfully poking each other and their relentless squealing was a sound that Janeway had not heard in weeks, after their encounter with an alien race that fed off the night terrors of the ship's children. _

_Seven's look had softened as well and Janeway shrugged to her partner, earning a faint look of amusement. _

"_I have two questions," Janeway had said. "How on earth did you get Lord Burleigh to visit my bedchamber?" They all knew the parameters of that timeframe in Earth history. A man of his standing would not have approached a woman's personal space. It would have been scandalous. _

_The girls glanced at each other and Dani covered a smile with her palm. "Um, I think he's sweet on you, Cap." _

"_Sweet on me?" Janeway asked. _

"_Yeah, he likes you. So I told him you would think his invention was interesting."_

"_Ah," Janeway said. _

_The girls studied their parents, noting none of the telltale signs of impending doom and misery. Their bodies had began to unbend from the protective shell, until the next question. _

"_Why did you pick this hour to send him to me?"_

"_To us," Seven clarified. "It is apparent you knew Cap—you knew Mrs. Davenport and Mrs. Templeton were consulting."_

_Dani's face reddened somewhat and she looked away. "Um…"_

"_Yes?" Janeway said in that annoying way that told Dani her mother was already aware of the answer._

"_You were…um—"_

_Dani noticed that Shannon shifted back, inclining her ear intently. Dani shoved her unexpectedly, making her fall on her backside. Dani stood up, brushing her own bottom. _

_Cappie loomed closer. Her mother's hands were planted on her hips, Dani noticed. _So not good._ Dani let her eyes wander up as she cleared her throat. "I thought you might be, you know, kissing."_

"_Kissing," Shannon said the word experimentally, tipping her head to look at her parents curiously. _

"_Really?" Janeway said, her voice breaking with suppressed laughter. _

_The Captain studied Dani, whose burning blush had masked her freckles. It was her reaction, and not necessarily her answers, that Janeway did not expect. Sometimes it was hard to remember that her daughter was not an adult, despite her height gain on Kathryn. Her body may be nearly full grown, with all of its accompanying needs, but emotionally Dani Janeway was still very much a child. It was a relief really to discover that the idea of a mere passionate kiss could elicit that reaction. _

_Dani swallowed hard, trying but failing to keep eye contact under the fierce scrutiny of both mothers. Finally Kathryn looked away in benevolent relief. _

_Captain Janeway met Seven's eyes, an entire libretto was wordlessly and effortlessly exchanged between the happily married pair. The children's unawareness or disinterest in sexuality at this stage of their precocious development was a postponement of the inevitable, but one that Cappie and Seven welcomed nonetheless. Dealing with a childlike mind in a mature body presented all sorts of parenting challenges, including the uncomfortable task of sex education. _

_The reprieve infused new bravado into Dani, who had been nearly 14 years old at the time of the incident. "So what did you think I thought?" _

"_Never mind," the Captain relented with a wave of a hand. "Okay, ladies, let's go home."_

"_But we still have time to use," Dani objected. _

_Kathryn shook her head. "I think your mother and I have been traumatized enough, thank you."_

=/\=

It was hard to believe their last vacation together had been nearly eighteen months ago. Kathryn shook her head. "Damn," she whispered.

"Is that the word of disagreement?"

"No," she said almost soundlessly. "It was a commentary on how long I've held off taking a vacation with you and _my_ children."

Seven tucked Kathryn's auburn hair behind her ears. Her eyes were crinkled but no touch of mirth touched her plump lips. Kathryn saw Seven's eyes follow silver strands in her once purely auburn hair, as if for the first time. Now the streaks rudely announced themselves, more every day.

"I know," Kathryn said, tipping her head down and running her own fingers over the length of the white locks.

"What do you know?"

"I'm getting older, _looking_ older and well…we're still stuck out here no closer to home than when you and I first met."

"That is incorrect," Seven replied, tilting her head to catch the Captain's watery gray eyes. She tugged the strong chin up, only now its drained strength had been reduced to quivering. "We are indeed closer to Sector Zero Zero One than when we first met. I have no doubts you will introduce me to the gourmet cuisine of Bloomington very soon."

Janeway couldn't help but laugh, but the watery pool held behind a fierce dam.

"And you are not older," Seven replied.

Janeway shook her head with a disapproving curl of her lips.

"You are…chronologically successful," Seven replied.

Janeway snorted, even as Seven moved closer to take the woman in her arms. "And captivating at any age," she whispered after a gentle kiss.

Janeway had closed her eyes, her lips offered with a gentle lift.

"And graceful," Seven replied before nibbling along her chin toward her ear.

"I'm very interested in this discussion," the Captain replied.

"It is my preferred subject matter," she whispered into an ear before pressing her lips to the shell.

Then Kathryn heard it, even as she felt the tingles of excitement shoot through her body. Seven was humming while she made love. She stroked Kathryn's breast in time with her melody. Curiosity and arousal warred with each other during Kathryn's sensuous undressing by an attentive and experienced Borg.

Seven laid a naked Kathryn on the bed and crawled up, hovering over her as she unfastened the buttons of her shirt. Their eyes were locked, but Seven's song was like the soft tinkles of wind chimes. "Darling," she whispered, rubbing Seven's still clothed shoulders. "What are you humming?"

Seven's hand froze, and wonder filled her face. "I was humming?" she said surprised. Then Seven smiled shyly. "I was indeed."

Kathryn's smile turned crooked and she let a hand cup the gentle face floating above hers. "Yes, Seven and it was lovely. I felt loved and serenaded."

"I do love you," Seven whispered. Her shirt forgotten, she leaned down to capture Kathryn's lips in a passionate, sensuous kiss of longing and desire.

"Tell me, Andy, how does the song go?"

Seven rubbed her cheek with her shoulder, staring at Kathryn. She was panting and not bothering to hide it.

"Oh, c'mon! You've sung in the holodeck a time or two. Besides…." Kathryn's voice dropped an octave. "I'm under you, the perfect audience."

"Because you are nude?"

Kathryn twisted Seven's shirt-covered nipple hard but playfully, making the Borg jump slightly. "I'm captive, silly," she replied.

"That is a hardly an endorsement," she said sardonically. "However, since I was humming about you, I suppose I could indulge your overweening ego."

"It's a professional requirement," Janeway said, weakly defending herself.

"Just you, only you In the shadowy twilight In silvery moonlight There's none like you, I adore you." Seven's song was a slow cadence and her voice was crystal clear.

When she had finished, Kathryn pushed up to her elbows. "Oh, my dear Seven of Nine, I adore you completely, too."

Then the pair heard it, the unrelenting whine of their firstborn.

"_Mom!"_

Kathryn's eyes widened, but not in alarm. "Seven, get your clothes off. Hurry, darling!"

Seven fumbled with the small buttons, complaining that buttons were an inferior cloture.

"Let me help you," Kathryn said, brushing away Seven's shaking hands. She was tempted to rip it off, but how would she explain a buttonless shirt with her spouse's generous bosoms hanging out. Instead, she focused on the small white buttons, carefully removing each one.

Seven did not wait for Kathryn to finish pushing the sleeves off of both shoulders before she descended on the woman underneath. With the left sleeve still intact, Seven's lips found Kathryn's breast, as the pair rubbed their moist sexes together.

Despite feeling as if they were alone on a deserted island, the sound of Shannon's threat shattered the illusion.

"_You're going to pay for that!" _

Seven lifted her eyes, a nipple still in her mouth. Kathryn lifted her head and grimaced, pulling her wife tighter. "Hurry," she whispered.

Seven whipped Kathryn's leg around and straddled her scissor-style. Her breasts bounced as she rubbed her sex against Kathryn's, drenched blonde curls tangled with auburn. She slid against her, using Kathryn's bent knee for leverage. Her moans seemed to keep the melody of Kathryn's guttural whimpers. Then in a rhythm borne of many, many rehearsals, their cries culminated in an explosion of blissful harmony.

Seven fell to the bed, her arms over her head. She was still panting when Kathryn leaned up to kiss her lips tenderly. "That was some scratch," she said in a hoarse voice.

Seven's eyes crinkled and she patted Kathryn's bare back, but words were elusive. They were always inaccessible to the Borg after the unrelenting cascade of pure sensation.

When the outside had been silent too long, Kathryn heaved herself up, pushing her bare legs off the bed. "I think our five-point-three minutes have long expired," she replied. "Let's get cleaned up and then find your subunits."

=/\=

Earlier, Dani and her sister stared at each other. Mud had dried to a crackling brown around their face, neck and hands. Their clothes were still sopping from the liquid brown substance.

Dani smiled widely trying to charm a similar response from her sister. "That was fun," she whispered.

Shannon's thick lips tried to fight off its mirth, bowing and flattening repeatedly. When Dani nudged her, she relented and smiled.

Lightning fast, Dani snapped a holopicture of her sister with a small tricorder. "Oh, Duke and the others are going to just love that."

Shannon lunged for the tricorder. "Lemme have that, you organic waste bag!"

Dani easily repelled her sister. Then she smiled, jerking her body into a series of imitation Tak-Tak non-verbal gestures. She ended her non-verbal jibe by framing her face with her hands, slightly stooping and looking over her shoulder to eye her proffered posterior. "That's Tak-Tak for 'Kiss my aft thruster.'"

Shannon creased her nose in disgust. "You're sick, you know that."

"That's not what Mom tells me," Dani said with an exaggerated grin. "I'm her favorite, you know."

Shannon got a wry look, one that always told Dani to be wary. "Aww, that's very tweet! Cuddwing with your Mommy. At least someone will cuddle with you!"

Shannon knew she'd gone to far the instant Dani began to blink furiously. She turned and stalked off, and Shannon tramped after her. "Hey, I was kidding. I didn't mean anything."

"Go away." Dani wasn't sure where she was going but it was anywhere but near her sister.

Shannon followed silently until Dani flopped to a giant rock beside the lake. They could hear the lapping of the water against the rocks, frogs croaking and crickets calling.

Dani sat with her chin on her knees and her arms curled around her legs, just staring out at the sparkling lake. Shannon perched nearby.

"Was it awful? I mean with Mezoti?"

Dani laughed quietly. "Like I'm going to tell you."

"Why not?"

"Then you'll tell Duke and he'll manage to blurt it out. You know, it's what started this whole mess."

Shannon frowned. "I really am sorry."

"Now everyone will just know I'm more different than ever."

"Different isn't bad."

"Weird different, not cool different like Mom-n'-Cap."

"Whoever said that can go smoke a plasma coil. You're my sister and nobody gets to say that to you, but me."

Dani quirked a single eye at her sister, who smiled shyly.

"Was that too much?" Shannon asked of her protectiveness.

"Little bit."

"I wish Mom were here. She'd know what to say."

Dani closed her eyes and Shannon watched her lids, seeing them move underneath. Neither spoke for long, long moments, until suddenly, Dani jumped up.

"Let's go find them the old fashioned way." She gave her sister an impish grin. "Computer, create new character. A Hirogen hunter with a keen lust for Borg—"

"Mom's really going to love that!" Shannon threw her head back, laughing.

"_Unable to comply."_

"What? Why not?"

"_That command is disabled."_

"Can any characters be generated?"

"_Negative."_

Dani crossed her arms, staring out into the sparkling lake. "Computer, generate compression rifle."

"_Cannot comply."_

Dani inhaled. "Computer, generate a compression rifle with disabled—."

"_Cannot comply."_

"This blows reeking plasma!" Dani hissed.

"You're not weird. You're crazy."

"Oh, shut up. I wasn't going to use it like that."

"How were you going to use it?"

"Computer, create a water gun."

A sleek, white rifle, resembling the originally requested compression rifle materialized in her waiting hands. It was complete with a leather strap that hung low.

Dani smiled.

"How did you know to do that?"

"Tom Paris designed this simulation," she replied as if that explained it all. And it did.

"Water guns," Shannon said, eyeing the device.

"Computer, generate another water gun."

Shannon's hands were barely able to stretch out before it materialized in her hands.

Dani took aim at a croaking frog nearby and slowly squeezed the trigger. A stream hit the creature on his back and he jumped away.

Shannon laughed but Dani frowned.

"Computer, color the water ammunition red."

"_Modification complete."_

"Let's go, Spock," Dani said, slinging her rifle over a shoulder.

"You're Spock. I'm Kirk. I thought we settled that last time."

=/\=

Seven crawled out of their tent, standing to offer a hand to her spouse who followed. They peered around toward the lake, seeing no sign of their pair of children. Kathryn put her hands on her hips. "Where did they run off to?"

Kathryn raised a hand to block the holographic sun and pivoted around. When she was fully turned, she jumped. A stream of red fluid she'd not seen struck her shirt. Kathryn's mouth dropped, her hands flung up and she looked down at her white shirt. She could see the red color seeping through to her white undershirt.

Seven's eyes widened at her spouse's shirt and turned in the direction of the assault. She took several rounds to her own top and pants, narrowly escaping one to the head. Her face hardened at the two children, standing on top of the rock outcropping and giggling uncontrollably, unmercifully.

When the Captain went to say something, Seven calmly placed a hand on her spouse's forearm. "Allow me, Pips."

Kathryn gestured to them. "Be my guest."

"Computer, generate a torrential storm at grid Gamma Nine."

Black clouds materialized over the girls, bringing with it a downpour. The cascading water swept everything in its path, namely two girls who couldn't hold on to the slick rock. They and the water rifles tumbled a short distance to land in a small pond beside their parents' tent. The caked-on mud was thick and viscous again, darkening the pool.

Dani glared up at her Borg mother, the sludge sliding down her face. "That was cheating," she growled.

"Cheating can be more efficient," Seven replied with a rude lift of a brow. "In any event, I will brook no mutiny from our subunits." She let her eyes bounce between her daughters. "Is that acknowledged?"

Dani frowned at Cappie, who was trying to swallow her laughs or cover them in a palm. "I'm sorry, darling," Janeway whispered with a hitch.

"I will bring you soap," Seven said evenly. "To formalize your cleansing."

Seven tugged Kathryn's hand. She was still laughing and leaning a cheek against Seven's shoulder, as they walked toward the girls' tent.

=/\=

Holding a full plate in each hand, Kathryn handed one to Seven and then folded down beside her spouse next to the fire. Her daughters were across, eating their dinners. The stars glittered like diamonds. Cicadas were chirping and, if Kathryn closed her eyes, she could even smell the pine of Indiana.

"Hey, Cap," Shannon said with a mouthful. "This is really good."

"Why, thank you."

"Chakotay—Commander Chakotay—still complains about your replicator dinners."

"Please," Kathryn said. "It's mindless. So much so that I got distracted. But this is the real deal." She raised a drumstick. "It's like magic. Mother would be proud."

Kathryn and Shannon were still chuckling over her claim of sorcery, when Seven narrowed her eyes on her seven-year-old. "You have been spending a great deal of time in the company of Dukat Wildman and his family. Explain."

Shannon's mouth opened. "It's not what you think."

"What do I think?" Seven asked in dangerous monotone.

"We're fr…." Shannon hesitated when she saw the lift of her mother's eyebrow. It was a dangerous warning shot across her bow. "I like him."

Kathryn ate quietly, watching the pair as they discussed it. She'd learned long ago to never stand between a Borg mother and her sense of duty.

"Does he return this interest?"

Shannon's eyes rolled up and her mouth curled her lips. "Well, yeah."

"How long?"

Shannon bit her lower lip. "Well, we've all pretty much paired off…" Shannon's blue eyes found Dani's identical ones, as they sat at right angles from each other. "Well, almost all."

Dani set her plate down and leapt up. "I'm done. I have to…" She gestured with her chin behind her and disappeared into the darkness.

Kathryn and Seven shared a meaningful look.

"Sorry," Shannon whispered, after her sister had disappeared behind a thicket.

"Almost all refers to your sister," Seven said as she watched the branches still sway in her daughter's wake.

"Yes, but don't tell her I said so."

=/\=

Captain Janeway found Dani perched on a large rock in the middle of one of the many creeks that fed the lake. Her boots tipped a landslide of pebbles into the river's edge. "Mind some company?" Cappie asked.

Dani edged toward one end, making room. "Don't fall in."

Kathryn leapt to the first rock, her hands akimbo as she balanced herself. "One down, two to go."

Dani watched her mother with interest. "You're still pretty spry, you know that, Cap?"

Kathryn was about to make another jump, but her daughter's comment nearly tipped her off balance. "Spry? That's something you say to a 120 year old, Elizabeth. Not your mother, who is risking life and limb to reach you."

Dani frowned at the use of her first name. "Sorry," she said. "I only meant you were in great shape."

"Thank you," she said. "Your mother keeps me hopping on the Velocity court." With another heave, Kathryn landed by her daughter, who'd raised a hand that her mother gratefully accepted to steady herself.

She sat beside her, their shoulders touching. She looked around, admiring the small touches that Tom had added to the simulation. An owl hooted in the background. "This simulation is so good, I expect my mother to come traipsing through the brush with a picnic basket," Kathryn said.

The cachinnations of a monkey echoed through the valley. "I think Geegee is bringing a monkey with her."

They both chuckled at the random "Tom-ness" of the simulation. When their laughter had died down, they sat in companionable silence.

"Are you okay, Dani?"

Dani fingered the hem of her shirt, intent on the stitch design. "Sometimes, I wish…" Her voice trailed off in a soft sob.

Kathryn put an arm around her daughter, pulling her close but allowing her room enough to be herself. She said nothing, merely making her sympathy known. There were some things she could never help her children do.

Dani batted at her teary eyes. "Sometimes I wish that the messages I get…I wish it would just tell me 'This is _the_ person. The love of your life. Hop to it.'"

Kathryn waited to see if Dani had anymore to say. But the dread of the mysterious messages her daughter had received since they'd taken her aboard descended on Kathryn like a thorny blanket. Despite every conceivable test, they were no closer to understanding the origin of the messages, but could not deny their veracity.

"That would be nice," Kathryn replied softly. "It's too bad it doesn't work that way."

"It should work that way," she insisted.

"Don't you think it would be difficult to know that someone you barely met will be the love of your life?" Kathryn thought about what she would have felt when she'd severed a confused and belligerent Borg from the Collective. Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix One, was hairless with sickly gray skin. She was superior in all the worst ways, without a shred of humanity in that first moment. Kathryn shook her own head.

"Foreknowledge could be terrifying," she whispered.

Dani chuckled, despite the tears. "Foreknowledge is usually warp boring," she admitted. "But it can be comforting, too."

Kathryn pulled back to look at her daughter. She'd acquired the ship pallor, that odd coloring that humanoid spacefarers developed after being confined in a ship with artificial light. As a result, Dani's freckles had faded mostly, a happy side effect for the girl. Only a smattering sprinkled across the slope of her nose and the apples of her cheeks.

Kathryn lifted a curl of flame red hair from Dani's shoulder. The color was still too light for her daughter's liking, much to the girl's chagrin. Dani's only consolation had been that it was indeed darkening, as she aged. It just wasn't happening fast enough.

"I think you'll find someone when it's your time," she whispered. "It took me forty years to find your mother and even then I had to fight the Borg Queen for her and sever her from everything she knew. In return, Seven of Nine overturned nearly every single one of my core beliefs."

Dani heard the sense of paradoxical wonder in her mother's voice. She usually reserved it for discussions about Seven.

Dani pushed her shoulder into her mother's embrace. "Including the one where the Captain has to sacrifice her life for the ship?"

The comment was astute, particularly for a teenager and Kathryn studied her daughter's face for several heartbeats. "That's the one. How did you know?"

She shrugged, as she stared down at the ring on her mother's right hand. She fingered the symbol of her parents' union. "I see how you are with each other," she whispered. "I just hope I can find someone who can love me like Mom loves you."

Kathryn hooked her daughter's neck in an arm and brought her closer, kissing the top of her head. "That's what I want to, darling."


	3. First Contact

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long on this. I started freelancing—making money with words. I'm also writing an uber J/7 story for publication. I'll let you know if it gets accepted. **

**More importantly, I've been meaning to thank JaySeven for suggesting that the Borg Queen would be very interested in CJ and 7's kids. It was true and added a little more meat to the plot. So, Jay, a million-point-seven-nine thanks. **

**Thanks also for all the reviews both online and off. They are appreciated. Without further adieu…**

"**Living Daylights"**  
Chapter 2: First Contact

**Captain's Log, 61208.8**

_After several weeks of fighting off pirate raids, we've finally encountered a race that, while not exactly friendly, aren't trying to kidnap any of us, hijack our supplies or pillage our warp engine. _

_We've entered the synchronous orbit of a class M planet along the outermost edge of Borg space. This is the Vashkoi homeworld and it's made many of us homesick because it looks like a blue marble swirling with white clouds._

_The Vashkoi have denied all requests for us to send a delegation, but they seem to show a keen interest in engineering capabilities. This is fortunate for us since we are nearly at the end of our deuterium supply. It's just one in a long list of our needs. We've been this close to depleting our supply before and somehow through luck or ingenuity we've always pulled through. _

_The Vashkoi king, Conail, who will be accompanied by his heir Derevo, has graciously accepted an invitation to tour Voyager. The light day will be a welcome relief for the crew and I after hours of repairs in open space. I'm confident we can strike a mutually beneficial alliance, even if I have to make B'Elanna Torres do a perky little song and dance._

_The Vashkoi neighbors, the Treveti, live on a red planet nearby and are a great deal more xenophobic. We are hoping a future trade agreement with the Vashkoi will give us an opportunity to trade with the Treveti, as their planet's surface has a large concentration of silicon. We need this compound to synthesize material for the warp coils, which are in bad need of repair._

_Not surprising, the ruler of Treveti, Krestyanin, has declined the invitation to board Voyager and any efforts at direct communication. _

_End log._

=/\=

Captain Janeway leaned across the sink in her ensuite. She fumbled several times with trying to pin the gold pips to the black collar of her dress uniform, dropping them several times.

"Dammit," she hissed. She sealed the drain before one of the pips rolled down. "Seven!" Janeway hollered to her mirrored reflection. "I need your help!"

Seven of Nine looked up from her preparation of the ante meridiem meal at the replicator station in their quarters. With keen Borg hearing, Seven's hands froze midway to the control panel as she heard the cries of her spouse. She had nearly stepped through the door of her quarters when she heard a shout from across the room.

"Hey, Mom! Is breakfast done?" Eridani yelled as she threw a padd on the couch walking by.

"There will be a delay," she said. "Pips requires my assistance."

Dani's frown, making Seven pivot back. Seven's eyebrow arched keenly. "However, _you_ may service us, Eridani."

"Huh?" she said, stopping abruptly in the middle of the room.

Seven flicked a chin toward the replicator station. "Please finish completing the morning meal."

Seven's features tightened in censure at her eldest child's whines of helplessness.

"Me? But I don't know how."

"You will make an attempt," Seven said as she disappeared inside the inner sanctum.

Dani had recognized the order when she heard it, but that never stopped her from complaining about it.

=/\=

Fully dressed in a blue biosuit, Seven stepped through the bedroom to find Kathryn leaning over the counter toward the mirror.

"I can't get these things on," she said, turning to offer an open palm with four golden pips. "Give me a hand, will you?" The Captain's look of relief brought a faint smile to the Borg.

Seven's focus was laser-like. As Kathryn watched an intense Seven focus on her task. Kathryn's eyes glided along the ocular implant, smiling when Seven looked up at her mid-process. She offered the faintest twinkle of an eye before resuming her task.

"I cannot comprehend how you managed to perform the simplest functions without me all of those years," she mused as she efficiently fastened each obstinate pip.

"Thank you, darling," Janeway replied in a husky voice. She pulled back to inspect herself in the mirror, nodding once with satisfaction. Then she turned a crooked smile on her spouse. "To be honest, I have no idea how I managed either."

Janeway opened her arms, expecting to fall into an embrace. Her moment was stopped short by the laser-like focus of Seven of Nine. The Borg needlessly tugged the collar, smoothed debris from a shoulder and then stepped back to inspect the Captain once again.

"Do I pass inspection, Seven?"

Seven lifted her chin to meet Janeway's amused gaze. "You do now," she stated.

Janeway chuckled and then inhaled sharply when Seven seized her by the collar to kiss the sinew slashing below her ear. Kathryn closed her eyes and shivered.

"I hope I never have to find out how I'll manage," she began in a husky voice.

Seven took the woman in her arms and tipped her head, diving down to capture Kathryn's earlobe between her teeth. "You will not," Seven promised. "I would never cancel our marriage contract."

Seven felt her wife's arms snake around her waist. "A good thing," she whispered. "Who would I get to help me dress?"

Seven pulled back, a weak frown on her lips. "Kathryn, your attempt at levity is pedestrian, to say the least."

Janeway ran a thumb over the Borg's full lips before answering. "I guess the honeymoon is over, huh?" Janeway whispered.

Seven's scrutiny of Janeway increased, her eyes tracking along Kathryn's hairline. Seven's hand froze midway to Kathryn's cheek. "I do not believe we have ever had a _honey moon_." Then she brushed a few of Kathryn's auburn locks from her cheekbones.

Kathryn leaned into the touch and her eyes closed again. "I wish I could give you everything you deserve, my darling," she whispered. "A wonderful honeymoon where we make love every day and roam the streets of Risa in between. Sumptuous meals in lavish restaurants, operas and plays…"

Kathryn's voice lost her train of thought as she felt Seven's Borg knuckles, icy and inanimate brush against her throat. Yet, she took comfort in that touch, no matter how inhuman. Technically, Seven retained a mere 18 percent of her original Borg implants, with only a few visible. She had been perceived as a machine and less than human by some of the crew.

But Janeway had seen through all of the rubble, straight to the heart of a woman yearning to be free. In the end, Seven's love had freed her, too. It was the mysterious paradox of giving everything to receive so much more in return. It still mystified and awed her even after all these years.

Janeway reluctantly pulled away. "I suppose we can't hide in here forever," she replied, looking around for her commbadge. "What are your plans today, love?"

Instead of replying, Seven dipped her head and captured Kathryn's lips in a searing kiss. Kathryn was the first to pull away, panting. "I'm going to be late if I keep this up much longer," she whispered.

Seven's hand glided down her auburn bob, tucking it under the sides as she went. A second pass, and suddenly, the taller woman clamped Kathryn's head firmly between her palms and yanked it down roughly.

"Seven!" Kathryn protested, trying to pry the woman's fingers from her head. "What the hell are you doing?"

Seven tipped Kathryn's head this way and that.

"Seven of Nine!"

"Your color-deficient hair follicles have vanished."

Seven finally released Kathryn, whose boiling stare was reflected in the mirror as she again combed her hair. "Have you had your primary systems checked by the doctor?"

Seven slipped her hands behind her back and acted as if she hadn't heard her. "Where are they?"

Kathryn's hand stopped midway to the top of her head. "Where's what?" she asked tartly.

"Your color-deficient hair follicles that I inventoried during our vacation."

Kathryn rolled her eyes. "Please don't start that, Seven."

"I believe this is not a commencement, but rather a continuation—"

"I plucked them, okay?" Kathryn set the brush inside a drawer and closed it harshly. "Is breakfast ready?"

Seven tipped her head, her eyes still raking through the auburn locks. "Does it not hurt to uproot them?"

Kathryn inhaled deeply, a small gurgle of exasperation roiled in her throat. "Seven, let's just drop it, hmm?" She stepped past the Borg, but a hand curled around her bicep, stopping her exit.

Kathryn looked down at the Borg appendage.

"I do not wish to drop it, Kathryn."

It had become rare for Seven of Nine to use her first name during their personal time and Janeway knew this wasn't going to just blow over. So she raised her hand in surrender and the Borg vise dropped away.

Kathryn turned on her heels to face her spouse and crossed her arms. She raised her eyebrows in expectation. Her were furiously rubbing together, revealing a mirthless dimple in her cheek. "All right," she said. "I'm listening."

Seven's expression softened. "I do not desire a conflict with you, especially after our refreshing vacation," she whispered.

The tension around Kathryn's eyes just drained away and her shoulders sagged. She dropped her arms. "I don't either, darling," she said softly. "I just don't believe this conversation is worth having, especially now before a sensitive diplomatic negotiation."

"I apologize, Kathryn," Seven whispered. "It is merely that I cherish everything about you, including the discolored strands."

Seven's hand slipped from the Captain's bicep to clasp her hand. Kathryn softened her expression. She lifted a clawed finger playfully at her spouse. "_You_ like them because they're not on _your_ head."

The comment confused her. "But it is an insignificant matter—"

"Then drop it," Janeway said.

The use of her wife's command voice lit something inside of Seven that she'd allowed to burn out. When Kathryn tried to pass again, Seven extended her Borg arm to block the way. "I will not," she stated calmly.

Kathryn inhaled sharply as she glanced the glint of the wedding ring on Seven's human hand. "I don't understand why you can't just let this go. It's not a big deal."

"It is indeed a small matter when your melanoctyes at the base of your hair follicles cease to function. Hair color is irrelevant. However, your reaction seems to indicate there is more beneath the surface. As your wife, I wish to know."

Kathryn's eyes scanned away from Seven. "I am fifty years old, Seven," she said emphasizing each syllable. "And, maybe you haven't realized, but I am fifteen years older than you are."

Seven scanned the curves of Kathryn's face from her temple, down the slope of the high cheekbones to her decisive chin. With lightening fast speed, various permutations of emotions sifted through Seven's Borg-enhanced brain. In a mere ten seconds, she had generated several possible theories for her spouse's newfound sensitivity to age. Seven quickly evaluated each possibility, discarding most out of hand.

Kathryn jumped when Seven's hand lightly touched her chin. But the Borg persevered and succeeded in tipping the lovely face toward her. "Fifteen years or fifteen hundred years difference are irrelevant to me," she whispered. "It is inefficient to expend your energy concentrating on something you cannot alter."

Kathryn grimaced. "Yeah, that's it."

Seven wanted to kiss her but the sarcasm made her fall back instead. She never understood the human need for bitter irony. But she took Kathryn's hand, kissing the knuckles and then rubbing it with her thumb and continued to watch it as she spoke.

"Time will not alter my feelings for you, Kathryn. My love resides in the present tense."

"I know that," Kathryn whispered.

Seven dropped Kathryn's hand, lifted her chin and mechanically stepped back. Then she gestured for the door. "When you begin to utilize three-word sentences, you are indicating your reluctance to discuss the matter further. Though I do not understand why you must use such a tactic rather than tell me you do not wish to discuss the matter."

"I did tell you! Several times, Seven."

"Very well, Captain," Seven replied in an even monotone.

The abrupt change in tone made Kathryn study her spouse intently. "I know that expression, Seven. Whatever you're thinking…it's not good."

Seven lifted a brow and looked elsewhere. "I have no expression, Kathryn."

Janeway lightly touched her temple with a forehead. "Look, Seven, I really don't have time right now—"

A loud bang made both women jump.

Dani could be heard as if she were in the ensuite with them.

"Mom! Where the hell are you?" Dani yelled.

"Mom! Dani burnt the eggs!" came the cry of their second child.

"Why are you such a pain-in-the-Astrid?" Dani replied.

"I'm seven! And I'm telling. You aren't supposed to say that to me."

The exchange grew quiet, except for the occasional bumps heard against the bulkhead. Janeway felt guilty for trying to avoid the issue. Then she felt angry for feeling guilty. "I'll take care of the girls this morning," she finally said when Seven failed to answer.

Seven heard the door of their bedroom swish open and Janeway's command voice bark an order. "Get off of your sister, Elizabeth!"

"It's her fault!" Dani wailed. "She tries that 'I'm only seven' bullshit and—"

"That's enough," Janeway hissed. The measured control was not loud, but it carried the whip of authority. Silence ensued.

Seven turned toward the mirror. Kathryn had been remarkably open during their private moments. But this was completely unexpected. Clearly Seven's conjecture of the issue was flawed, a fact that irked the perfectionist Borg in and of itself.

She stared at the base of her own hair follicles in the mirror. She could easily program nanoprobes to kill the cells responsible for hair color. It would invariably occur at some point in the future. Like height and eye color, it was all naturally ruled by genetics. Seven was in love with the sum total of Kathryn. That she would naturally evolve had never concerned her. "Perhaps I should have indicated such," she whispered to her reflection.

As she studied her own image before her, Seven considered that she looked no older than the day she stepped aboard Voyager. She now had hair and a healthy glowing skin, but in terms of senescence, Seven had experienced none. It was a macabre benefit of Borg assimilation. But in that instance, the cure would be far, far worse than the disease.

Another line of conjecture for her wife's reaction began to percolate in her lovely brain as she stared at her blonde locks in the mirror. A soft smile announced her intent.

"Computer, locate the Chief Medical Officer."

=/\=

Captain Janeway jogged into the transporter room, glancing at the transporter padd with relief. She tugged her dress tunic down and inhaled sharply, staring straight ahead and ignoring the casual assessment by her First Officer.

Chakotay turned to look straight ahead when he spoke. "It must be serious wife trouble," he said with a smirk. "I haven't seen you this grated since our last skirmish with the Borg nearly six years ago."

"I am not grated," she said through gritted teeth.

Chakotay just chuckled. "Okay, but it must have been some fight."

The silence grew, but Chakotay's dimples only deepened with each passing second. He didn't have to see the Captain. He could hear her fidgeting with her tunic. He could see feel the air around her buffet every time she shifted her feet.

The Captain shot a glance at the young ensign behind them.

"There's a delay on their end," Chakotay said, still looking straight ahead.

Kathryn tugged her tunic and scratched her neck.

"So if you'd like to talk about what's bothering you, I'm all ears. Sympathetic ears."

Chakotay still looked forward, not bothering to meet the Captain's assessing gaze. He and Marla Gilmore had gotten married nearly two years ago and they'd had their fair share of feuds, one spilling over in the Mess Hall, to the utter embarrassment of their daughter, Kateri.

"Seven is finally beginning to catalog my aging process," the Captain said.

"I find that hard to believe," he replied, drawing a sharp glare from his commanding officer. "Nothing escapes the incisive Borg eye. Perhaps she just senses _you_ are ready to talk about it."

"Maybe," the Captain barked. She never willingly submitted to her First Officer's pop psychology lectures. Yes, she'd tried the spirit guide search and had been fascinated to find a Tokay Gecko respond to her need. But that had been the only time and she'd done it in the interest of camaraderie during the early days of their journey. Now her First Officer and Best Friend thought it was an open invitation to give bad advice.

"You know how wives are," he replied with a brilliant smile.

Janeway glared at him. "I'm a wife, too."

That was another thing about sharing her tiffs with a crewmember. Male crewmembers spoke to her as one of the guys, just because she had a wife. It's as if they forgot she wasn't one of them, which rankled her. It was like being called "sir," except Janeway knew very well she couldn't order them to think of her as a woman.

She heard a strangled laugh and then caught the glint in his eye. "Oh, no," the Captain replied. "Let's talk about _your_ problems for a change."

"Okay," he said reasonably. "Marla wants another baby."

Janeway cinched her eyes closed tightly. She always felt like the worst Captain in Starfleet when she had to deny a request from crewmembers who wanted to discontinue birth control. "There must be something in that ice we picked up a few light years back," she declared.

"Oh?" he said playfully. "Is that it for you and Seven then? She wants a fleet of children?"

"No, Commander. Not even close," she replied, giving him a look of pity for the pathetic attempt. "I've just received several requests already this week."

"It's the survival instinct."

"We can barely feed the people we have now."

"I know," he whispered with a touch of sadness.

"I'm sorry."

"I know that, too. But on the plus side, that's one less kid to stay with us every fifth day."

"So you're still rotating your children in then?"

"Yep, all fifteen of my offspring in shifts of three. I can't bear the thought of not trying to connect with them."

The thought that Janeway tried to keep at the periphery rushed into her awareness, sweeping every other concern away. Janeway's darkened and bit down hard on her molars. "If it takes us another generation…." She'd never shared this fear with anyone else, not even Seven. "After another generation—or two—to get home, the number of children we have _now_ won't be enough to man the ship."

The silence was oppressive and finally Janeway chanced another glance his way.

Chakotay's expression was surprisingly reassuring. "So let's just get home sooner then."

A communicator beep was heard behind them and the ensign announced that the Vashkoi representative was on his way.

"One thing at a time, Commander," Janeway said.

Captain Janeway forced her smile wider when this eerie music blared out into the small transporter room. A man in glittering clothes of teal and gold declared in a booming voice that the Imperial Sointse of the Vashkoi people would follow the band currently playing on the transporter pad.

The music—an odd mix of brass and wood instruments—haunted through the room, reminding Janeway of the wind whistling through the Grand Canyon in winter.

The musicians' bodies were covered head to toe in an oddly distorting energy field. It was as if their eyes and body were just out of focus. Trying to look at them made Janeway's eyes nearly cross.

Janeway had finally taken to just looking at the reed and brass-like instruments they carried and which were not altered by the energy field. One appeared to be similar to an oboe from earth, but it was twisted into descending spirals. The mouthpiece was shaped in a horse-like head. Another instrument looked like a feathered mandolin and its scroll formed a horse head also.

She tried not to glance at Chakotay. She knew just as certainly that she would give him a look that would likely say more than she intended.

When the band had finished its rendition of a traditional piece, it dematerialized, followed closely by a ring of honor guards in black skull caps and brocaded white and red silk clothes with high collars. Their brown knee high boots soundlessly shuffled to open up their circle, where stood inside a tall, husky man with long, dark hair and dressed in the same manner.

On instinctive cue, Captain Janeway stepped forward. "On behalf of the United Federation of Planets and Starfleet Command, I welcome you aboard the U.S.S. Voyager. I am Captain Kathryn Janeway." Then she introduced Chakotay.

The man glanced around. "I am Hareez, Imperial Sointse of His Eminence Conail, High King of the Vashkoi. I am here to instruct you on the strict protocols of my people, Captain Kathryn Janeway."

Janeway tipped her head slightly, her obligatory smile becoming that much harder to maintain. "We are at your service, Mr. Hareez."

"When you greet His Eminence, you will lower your eyes," he said curtly, taking in Janeway's senior officer.

"Fair enough," Janeway replied.

"You must never present your back to him. It is a grave insult."

Janeway nodded, making a mental note to clear the decks, section by section, during their tour. Otherwise, a crewman going about his or her duty could inadvertently walk away from him.

"You must never use the personal pronoun to describe yourself."

"I beg your pardon."

The man turned slowly and then glanced down in a precise choreography of right angle movements. "That is a perfect example of what not to do, Captain. Thank you for illustrating for your crew."

"I—We understand," she said.

The man smiled faintly in reward.

An hour later, the finer points of Vashkoi protocol had been reviewed extensively by Hareez in painstaking detail. He clasped his hands. "Our last item regards Derevo."

"Derevo?"

"The Imperial Heir. Derevo will be shielded within the savan, just as our musicians were. It is for the Heir's protection. Greedy eyes must never look upon the Heir, whose marriage to the Treveti heir will ensure another hundred years of peace between our two peoples."

"We understand," Janeway replied obligingly.

"And all of the rules for His Eminence will apply to the Heir."

Janeway hoped she could remember it all. She suddenly realized she should have assigned Commander Tuvok to this detail. His Vulcan recall was unmatched by anyone except Seven of Nine's Borg-enhanced photographic memory.

"Of course," she said.

He glanced around and nodded in satisfaction. Then slowly he returned to his spot on the transporter and the soldiers closed the circle. The transporter activated, dematerializing and then rematerializing the same soldiers. Within the circle stood a short man, brown skinned with dark eyes and epicanthic folds. His mustache swooped upward at the end and down beyond his chin in a braid. His hair was braided and piled on his head. His purple clothes were embroidered with glistening gold threads in horses.

Derevo was indeed shimmering behind the shield and moved beside the Vashkoi king, who was followed by several advisors, including the Grizier.

Kathryn repeated the greeting she'd given for the Grizier more than an hour ago.

The king stepped down from the transporter pad. "Your ship is fine, Captain. Grizier was suitably impressed."

"Was he? I…we couldn't tell," she said wryly.

The comment brought a bright smile, revealing a golden tooth on the King's top row. "Sometimes he's called the Stonewall."

"We can see why," she replied. "Thank you for the compliment." She gestured for him and she managed to walk out of the transporter room together.

=/\=

Dani yawned as Lt. William Chapman answered questions about the warp engine, which loomed before the young scholars of Voyager Academy. Dani noticed with some satisfaction that Shannon was actually taking notes on a padd, rather than having Dukat Wildman, the First Officer's son do it for them both.

Dani felt someone step beside her but she didn't have to turn to know it was Mezoti. "Why do you not regenerate sufficiently?" she whispered.

"How do you know I don't?"

"Because you pandiculate."

Dani stifled a giggle. "Is that really a word?"

"Pandiculation is—"

Dani was spared a complete and thorough explanation of the word when Commander Chakotay arrived with a bizarre walking distortion surrounded by men with shaven heads walking in their pajamas.

"This is a coincidence," Chakotay said, indicating toward the students. After introducing Derevo, the First Officer explained the students' activity. "These are the children of our crewman and they are being tutored on the warp core assembly."

No one was sure what reaction the Derevo gave, but they were all surprised to hear a warbled comment emanate from behind the shield. One of the advisors leaned closer to Derevo and half of his body was enveloped by the savan's distortions.

Then he turned to regard Chakotay, averting his eyes from the Commander's as he spoke. "The Heir desires that one of your youth be a guide," he said, clasping his hands and bowing his head when he'd concluded.

"I think that can be arranged," Chakotay said, trying to look as humble as he possibly could. "Naomi Wildman can help us, I think."

Stepping forward, Naomi's friendly wave was met with a barrage of warbled emanations from behind the distortion. Half of the advisor's body disappeared behind the curtain of distortion. He emerged visibly shaken and unable to even glance at Commander Chakotay's feet. "The Heir expresses an interest in the one with red hair," he said, barely lifting a finger in Dani Janeway's direction. "We have never seen such brilliant color. It must be a blessing of the gods and the Heir would like to converse with that one."

Chakotay tried hard to contain a smile. "I don't think she'd call it a blessing—"

"Damn straight" he heard from the back row.

"But I'm sure she'd be happy to join us—"

"_Bridge to Commander Chakotay."_

He glanced up, listening. "Chakotay here."

"_There are three Treveti ships on a intercept course."_

"We have the Vashkoi king and his heir aboard."

"Acknowledged, but they are hailing us, asking to speak to the Captain…"

"…Who is with the king," Chakotay added.

"_Affirmative."_

"I'm on my way," he said, affecting a small bow from the waist toward the glimmering figure whom he still hadn't glimpsed. "We are sure you would be more entertained by Eridani Janeway, the redhead, if that is an acceptable exchange."

=/\=

The Holodeck One simulation was a Twentieth Century carnival program, created by Tom Paris for Dani Janeway and that's why she played it. She was grateful to be relieved from yet another lecture about the ship's propulsion system. She knew it every which way but inert, just as she suspected, her peers did. Captain Janeway and her command staff were very adamant that the older children be drilled on the shipsystems.

Dani smiled as she strolled beside the Heir, who had seemed easy to please, despite being the next planetary monarch. Derevo seemed delighted by the Ferris wheel ride and now by simply watching it circle beside them. Derevo's high-pitched, indistinct yodels were at least seemed to confirm pleasure.

Dani stopped at a garish booth, tossing a copper coin to a tall man with a stripped paper hat. She took the prize, a paddle of blue cotton candy, and offered it to the Heir. The cone-shaped paddle disappeared behind the event horizon of the Heir's security perimeter. Dani smiled pridefully at another warbled exclamation of glee.

At the jump house, Dani pulled back the canvas flap to give Derevo a look inside. It was strange to watch a blurred facsimile of a person live behind the barrier. The Heir summoned the advisor, while Dani leaned against the house. As she watched the man lean in for a confab with the Heir, Dani wondered how he understood sound distortions.

The advisor stepped out of the shield, clapped his hands and summoned the honor guard to follow him to the other side of the carnival.

When Dani looked back, the Heir was gone. She looked around and then tugged back the flap. She was surprised to find that Derevo was jumping inside, emitting a sound that could only be merriment.

Dani slipped off her shoes and climbed on up to join Derevo.

If Shannon were here now, Dani knew that she'd be teasing her. The last time they operated this simulation, Cappie had asked Dani to go into the jump house with Shannon, who was three at the time. Dani had refused, citing its childishness. In the end, both Cappie and Mom had gone in with a crying Shannon, where they jumped for at least fifteen minutes. It was quite a sight and, unbeknownst to her privacy-obsessed parents, Dani had taken a holovid that she would someday use in a very public way, if the opportunity presented itself.

After a few minutes of jumping, flipping and belly flopping, the Heir collapsed to the big red mattress. Dani gasped when the energy field slowly folded itself into a device at Derevo's belt. It revealed a thin person, wearing black silk dress with teal pants embroidered with silver horses. Derevo's dark, long hair was braided with teal ribbons and beads and piled on top. Obsidian, almond eyes stared out over full lips quirked in an alluring smile.

"Hi," Dani said. "I'll bet that's a relief."

Derevo smiled mysteriously. "What is a relief?"

"Well, if we see blurry looking in, wouldn't you see blurry looking out?"

The girl blinked a long moment. "No one has ever asked that question."

"Really?"

"Yes, but not many people are allowed to speak directly to me. They may not even reference themselves in my presence."

"Then how do you make friends?" Dani leaned back on an elbow, her long legs stretched before her and crossed at the ankle.

"I do not have very many," she said, looking around her. Her arms were stretched out as Derevo glanced around the jump house again, as if seeing it for the first time.

The Heir's smile was faint. Dani was used to that since she was infatuated with Mezoti and her Borg-like frostiness. The thought of Mezoti made her a little hot inside and not in a good way. Dani sighed and scooted herself toward the exit, when the Heir caught her hand.

"Please do not leave."

Dani stared down at the elegant, be-ringed fingers with blue-tipped polished nails.

"I will be marrying a man in two moons—"

_Derevo's a woman!_ Dani thought. But any reply seemed to strangle in her throat. Dani suddenly became tongue-tied, wondering what to say. When she thought Derevo was a boy, she had no trouble conversing. Now, she felt like a dolt.

And to her chagrin, there was no help from the green text inside her head. In fact, she hadn't seen any messages from her Borg implant in quite some time and wondered if it had just run its course, or if the messenger had merely gotten bored.

Derevo stood up and bounced around, unconcerned with Dani's silence.

Dani joined her as they bounced around the mattress. With their height difference, Dani suddenly had a question. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty five solar," she said, plopping herself down in the middle of the jump house.

She's a real woman, too! Dani edged closer, crossing her legs lotus style as she faced Derevo. "You don't love him—your fiancé, I mean?"

"I do not know him. He is the ruler of the Treveti and he is twice my age."

"He's fifty years old?"

Derevo nodded solemnly. "With four hundred wives."

"Oh, shit! I thought Harry Kim was bad with two!"

Derevo seemed unruffled by Dani's outburst. "Who is Harry Kim?" Her voice was melodic and calm.

"He's one of Voyager's crewmembers with two wives and four children."

"Do you love him?"

"What? Oh, hell no! I—I—I actually like girls," Dani whispered, looking away. "I think."

For the first time, Derevo smiled broadly enough to show her perfect teeth, gleaming white with an oddly machined straight edge. She touched the tip of Dani's hair. When she didn't pull away, Derevo took thick strands and brought them to her lips. "I favor women as well."

=/\=

"This is divine! Simply divine!" the King shouted, around a spoonful of Neelix' Ailis paté. The King and the Captain were ensconced at a table by the windows, while his entourage stood watching, along with the rest of the Mess Hall occupants, from a respectful distance. "It is smooth, yet flavorful! The Imperial chefs would be put to shame by your cooking, Mr. Neelix."

Janeway stared in covert horror, while Neelix preened.

"It takes a very sophisticated palate to appreciate my cuisine," he said. "Wouldn't you agree, Captain?"

"Oh, yes," she replied.

Neelix glanced down at her rather full plate. "Captain, you don't like it?"

She crinkled her nose. "I evidently inherited a crude palate," she said. "It's a wonder I can even walk upright without scraping my knuckles."

The King stuffed his mouth with another spoonful and hummed through its chewing. Then he touched Neelix' arm. "You must come to the surface and instruct my chefs."

Neelix shook with excitement. "I think I can teach them this dish to start and we can move on to the stuffed Cardaway leaves."

He kissed the tips of his own fingers. "Exquisite."

Suddenly, Neelix remembered himself. "That is, if it's all right with my commanding officer." He glanced sheepishly and expectantly at the Captain.

"Oh, I'm—we are sure something could be arranged. The King has graciously offered to supply us with deuterium."

"Then it's settled," Neelix said with a big smile. His mind was already wandering to the supplies he would need when the Grizier came to stand by the table. He did not speak until the King acknowledged him.

"Our time has been sifted away, Your Eminence. It is time to return to Vashkoine."

The King stood, burping loudly and pounding his chest. "Captain Janeway, it is a pleasure to have seen your ship. She is beautiful."

"Thank you, Your Eminence," she said. "We are most pleased to have had you on board."

Suddenly, the King turned to Grizier. "Where is the Derevo?"

Grizier looked to the Captain, who tagged her communicator. "Computer, locate the Heir Derevo of Vashkoi."

"The Heir Derevo of Vashkoi is in Holodeck One."

The Captain stood up, bowing slightly to the portly man beside her. "This is a delightful coincidence. Your Heir is in one of our holodecks. Are you familiar with that technology?"

"No, but it sounds delightful," the King replied.

The Captain gestured toward the exit, as she began her explanation of the holodeck.

=/\=

The cacophony of calliope music, milling crowds and merchants trying to sell tickets assaulted the ears of Captain Janeway and King Conail as they entered. Lights from the Ferris wheel, the roller coaster and the haunted house gave the ambience a strange red and green cast.

But when a juggler with orange hair, white face and blue lips stumbled by Captain Janeway and King Conail. The king took a half step back, startled. His honor guards poured forward, surrounding the poor clown, who dropped the red balls and shrieked.

"It's all computer-generated, Your Eminence," Janeway shouted over the noise. "Here let me show you. Computer, end program."

As the reality dissolved to a gray grid with scaffolding, just a meter ahead of Janeway and the King, two figures crashed from nearly a two-meter height.

Dani fell on her backside and elbows, yelping as she hit the deck. Her gray uniform tunic underneath her and her turtleneck sweater was lifted over her head, revealing uncovered breasts. Her black pants were unbuttoned.

The surprise fall caused the Derevo, who was straddling one of Dani's thighs, to bite one of the pink tips in her mouth. Dani immediately moved to cover her chest, crying out again at the pain in using the arms.

For her part, the Derevo was completely topless, revealing full, mocha tipped breasts. Her black silk dress lay discarded around them. She had cried out in pain when her knees bore the brunt of the fall along with a hand secreted between two legs.

Despite the surprise and the injuries, the Derevo rolled off with ease and Dani scrambled to push her clothes in place.

"Merkit Derevo! What have you done?" The King bellowed as he stormed toward her.

The advisor and soldiers who were caught milling a few meters away from their charge looked horrified. The advisor threw himself down at the King's feet in abject regret. The King stepped over the man, ordering one of the soldiers to cover his daughter.

The Derevo howled again when he took her elbow, mingling her cries of pain with Dani's. Hearing Dani's protest, the King focused his rage on her. "Who is this—this—this vile creature with you?"

Captain Janeway felt as if everything were moving in slow motion, from her reaction to see her daughter fall to the sheer embarrassment of finding them in such a compromised position, to the instinct to protect her.

"Your Eminence, please! Please," the Captain said in her most placating tones.

"This...person has violated my daughter—my virgin daughter who is betrothed to Krestyanin, the ruler of the Treveti. She is the first girl born to my line in over 100 years and their union would ensure peace!"

"I'm sure nothing happened to jeopardize that but please allow me to bring our chief medical officer here. We can examine the girls to see if they're hurt."

"Girls?" The king slowly turned to look up at Dani Janeway, who towered over him and his Heir by at least a foot. "That, that ravenous wolf—that gargantuan behemoth is a girl? And what was she doing with my child?"

Janeway's eyes narrowed slightly. She tipped her chin, suppressing the first urge to whip out the devastating Janeway look. Instead, she narrowed her eyes on the small man. "Child? How old is your daughter?"

The King stood in front of his cowering daughter, who held her dress over her nakedness. "She is twenty five solars." The king turned vicious beady eyes on Dani Janeway and fixed her with a deadly glare. "If we were on Vashkoi now, you would be incarcerated for the remainder of your unnatural life."

Janeway stepped in front of her own child, after Dani backed up a step from the venomous tone of Derevo's father. "Your on _my_ ship, sir," the Captain said. "Here, we abide by Federation law."

"This is an outrage!" the King bellowed. "You are protecting that colossus there, who is no victim!"

The Captain firmed her jaw. "Please refrain from name-calling, Your Eminence. My daughter is not a criminal."

"Your daughter?"

The King whirled on his daughter as he began to pace. "How dare you defile the gift of your body in fornication! And with a girl! This is beyond disgraceful! What will your husband say? What will I tell the man?"

=/\=

Meanwhile, Captain Janeway summoned the Chief Medical Officer to Holodeck One and set security guards outside to ensure privacy. The Doctor activated the Sick Bay simulation, causing the blustering of the King to falter for a moment as biobeds appeared. A commbadge chime alerted the Captain that the Grizier wanted admittance. She allowed that and then summoned Commander Tuvok.

Meanwhile, the Doctor set a privacy screen around two beds, ensconcing each girl safely behind.

"This is an outrage!" the King objected.

"It certainly is," the Doctor replied sardonically. "It's not like _I_ don't have other things to do. I'll start with Dani while the Captain sorts this out. Good day to you, sir."

The king huffed at the sight of the hologram's back. He turned to his Sointse. "You have failed me, Grizier!"

The man was ghostly white and he gave Janeway a frightened look.

=/\=

When the Chief Medical Officer stepped around the privacy screen, Dani was perched on the biobed, her feet dangling below her while she cradled her left arm. They could both hear the King alternating between berating his daughter and threatening armed conflict over the matter.

Dani groaned.

The Doctor retrieved the medical tricorder, running it over the length of her body. Then he took a boneknitter in hand. "This is quite a party," he said quietly.

Dani remained silent, wishing she could crawl under the biobed and then disappear with the surroundings when the program was deactivated.

The Doctor ran the boneknitter over her elbow. They both heard the King adamantly tell the Captain that she must summon one of their medicine men from Vashkoine, the Capital, because a man would not be allowed to determine the status of his daughter's virginity.

Captain Janeway said something so mild, Dani couldn't make out. She had just started to relax under the Doctor's ministrations when her mother appeared. Janeway sniffed as she looked Dani over.

Dani avoided her eyes, looking at the Doctor's work or her own bare feet.

Janeway still managed to level a flinty gaze that made her daughter's neck burn. "How is she, Doctor?"

"Aside from a broken wrist and a hairline fracture of the ulna," the Doctor glanced down at the girl, noticing the red burn creeping down her face. "She'll be fine in a few days, if she survives Old King Cole's shouts for her head."

Janeway saw Dani's head jerk at the comment. "Doctor," the Captain whispered. "You're not helping."

He passed a medical tricorder over the arm again. Satisfied he scanned downward, and asked her to lie down.

Dani obliged but felt vulnerable in way she'd never experienced as the Doctor ran the tricorder over her torso. Her mother's eyes followed and in self-defense, Dani closed her eyes.

"She also has a hairline fracture of the coccyx bone. Her tail bone," he said.

Dani whimpered in protest at this indignity.

The Doctor only made matters worse with his incessant questions. "How did you get that?"

Dani cleared her throat, but kept her eyes cinched. She chose to ignore the question.

"How could she and the other girl be injured?" the Captain asked sharply. "The safety protocols were in place."

Dani flipped a forearm over her eyes for added cover at the accusation implicit in her mother's comments.

The Doctor set the boneknitter on a table beside the biobed. "I'm sure I don't know, Captain," he said with contrived patience. He nudged Dani's shoulder. "Dani, how did this happen?"

Dani grumbled to herself before answering. "We fell from a meter and a half height."

"That wouldn't explain it," the Doctor said, still trying to make sense of the data. "That's not very high to cause impact injuries of this sort you would have had to be—"

The Captain crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes, it would," she replied. "If you were hopelessly tangled with another body."

The girl's burning cheeks caught the Doctor's attention. "Captain, I need another moment with my patient, if you please."

The Captain firmed her jaw and nodded. When she'd disappeared, Dani exhaled audibly. "Thanks, Doctor," she whispered, saying the first kind words to him in years. "I think she's really pissed this time."

"I don't think she's angry at you, Dani," the Doctor replied. "I think the king appears to be saying all the wrong things and she's trying to maintain a measure of civility. That's not an easy thing to do when you have a tired crew and a vulnerable daughter to look after. Can you sit up?"

Dani obliged, wincing slightly.

"You're going to be sore for a few days. So what exactly did happen?"

Dani gave him a very, very short version of events, neglecting to mention the location of the girl's lips and hands in the process, but supplying the impact regions.

"So the Derevo—or whatever her name is—came on to you?"

"Her name is Merkit," she whispered. "It was mutual. We were in the bounce house, started kissing and the next thing I knew...well, we got carried away." Dani pressed her lips closed. "Maybe you could give me something for the hormones."

He crossed his arms. "Oh, no! Absolutely not," he said. "You have quite enough hormones already. In fact, if I counted all of the hormones of all the children on board, I'll bet we could export those and make more latinum than Voyager could haul."

"I meant hormones to keep me from feeling...you know."

He nodded slowly. "I do know. I added a subroutine that... Never mind." He followed Dani's gaze to where Janeway was trying to do a diplomatic tap dance. Her arms were gesturing to try to calm the bulging eyed King. Finally, she nodded and then marched back to them.

"Here she comes, Dani," he replied. "Brace yourself."

Janeway's march halted abruptly in front of the doctor. "All right, Doctor," she snapped, without looking at her daughter. "The Vashkoi are about to send up their medical database. You are going to give the girls a medical exam to ensure their _innocence_."

"What?" The Doctor asked.

Dani straightened. "I don't think—"

Janeway's icy gaze turned slowly to blast toward Dani. "I'm doing the best I can to avoid open conflict, Eridani Elizabeth Janeway."

Dani recoiled from the tone and the full use of her name. But still she pressed on. "But it doesn't matter!"

Janeway's only response to her daughter was to purse her lips as she turned her full attention on the Doctor.

Dani's eyes turned shiny with unspent tears and she looked helplessly at the Doctor.

"If this procedure will allay their fears, it will be painless enough, Dani," the Doctor offered, patting her knee.

Janeway finally blew out some air. "I'll leave you to it, Doctor."

Then she marched back, to the King.

He turned to Dani, wanting to pat her shoulder. But he thought it would be unwelcome given their past animosities.

"I'm sorry, Dani," he said. "But I'm going to place a level four privacy seal around this bed. I'm going to have to exam you without clothes."

She swallowed hard. "That'll be a first," she whispered. "I mean no one's ever seen me like that since I was a little kid." She nodded, a tear falling. "What, ah, why do you think he needs to know this about me?"

"Neanderthals rarely have logic, Dani," he said, rearranging a new set of tools he'd replicated. "Maybe it's really all about what it says about his daughter."

"Terrific," she said, sounding just like Janeway.

"Let me call up your records while you undress," he said, turning to the console behind him. The Doctor had begun to scroll through the file when he stopped.

He let his head loll back and took a deep breath before he turned around. "You can put your clothes back on."

"Why?"

"You don't remember that little procedure you had done—"

Janeway burst through the privacy screen, making Dani fumble for a shirt.

Janeway did a brief double take of Dani's uncoordinated efforts to cover herself and she frowned, turning away to afford a measure of privacy. "Well?" she asked the Doctor.

"I can't vouch for her 'innocence,' as you so quaintly put it."

"What? Why not?"

He inhaled, glaring once at the girl, who was now fully dressed. "It seems Dr. von Behring performed a small procedure for Dani."

Janeway's eyebrow arched at her daughter. "What kind of _procedure_?"

"Hymenotomy," he said, shaking his head in disapproval.

"What is a hymenotomy, Doctor?"

"It's exactly what it sounds like. Hymen—vaginal membrane. Ectomy—removal of—"

"I get it," she snapped.

The Captain fixed her daughter with a stony gaze.

"I'm sorry," Dani whispered finally.

The Captain inhaled deeply, patting her daughter's knee. "We'll talk later. Right now I've got to undo this mess."

The response didn't make Dani feel better, but she knew Cappie wasn't trying. She was the Captain Mother right now, which sometimes sucked when you had to a take a backseat to nearly 300 crewmembers.

The Captain lifted a hand to her chin. "When, Doctor? When was this procedure?"

"About a year ago."

She looked up sharply at Dani, but still spoke to the Doctor. Dani turned her head uncomfortably to look anywhere but at her Captain Mother. "Was Seven informed?"

"Not according to my records."

Dani sighed. "I asked Galen not to say anything to you guys." Dani's voice was barely audible.

"Galen, is it?" Janeway hissed. "What Dr. von Behring did is against the law. He cannot perform a procedure without the consent of your parents."

"Technically speaking," the Doctor said with some trepidation. "That's not entirely…" Janeway's glare made him stall.

Captain Janeway's eyebrows were knitted together. "Terrific," she said. "Let's just focus on the Derevo's virginity." She arched a brow at her daughter, making Dani blush.

Dani opened her mouth to say something, but the Captain pivoted to make an abrupt exit. "Well, I think we are done here with you," Janeway said before leaving. "How are you feeling?"

Dani nearly sobbed at the question. "Um, I've been better."

The Doctor tapped her knee. "That's what I thought," he replied. "Captain, maybe I can persuade the King to let me examine the little Princess."

"I'll ask," she snapped and then disappeared.

Dani grabbed the Doctor's sleeve. "Can you do me a fave?"

"If I can."

"Tell Merkit that I'm sorry about all this."

The Doctor winked. "I'll do that."

"Thanks, Doc." Dani smiled warmly at him and he smiled back.

=/\=

"All right, Captain," The Doctor said. "Where's the Princess?"

The King looked at him. "No," he bellowed. "You will not look upon my daughter."

"I'm a Doctor, sir, not a peeping tom!"

"You are a man."

"I'm a hologram," he corrected.

"I don't care!" the King roared. "You will not look upon my daughter. Her body must be preserved in every way possible for her husband."

The Chief Medical Officer offered a smug look to the Janeway. "Captain, could you please demonstrate?" He nodded again as encouragement. "Whack me good."

She swung, but her hand passed effortlessly through the Doctor, his imaging rippling along the path.

"You see? I am really neither male nor female." He lifted his hands, palms up. "Hence, hologram."

"Who looks like a man," Grizier added with a hiss.

"Your Eminence," Janeway said, a note heavy with patience. "We could—"

"What if I change my imaging parameters?" the Doctor interjected.

Janeway whipped her head around. "Doctor," she whispered in astonishment and disapproval.

"It's my image, Captain," he whispered as an aside to Janeway. "I can do what I please. And just think of the leverage I'll have with a certain someone."

The gentle jest didn't break Janeway's concentration. She nodded, knowing full well that a sentient being could alter him or herself as he pleased or were able.

"I'll be back."

=/\=

When he rematerialized in the holodeck, Dani gasped at the sight. Janeway was impassive. The Doctor had dark hair, covering his entire pate and flowing down in suggestions of waves. He sported to handful-sized breasts and curves replaced the harsh angles under his uniform. He was even sporting some light lip gloss.

"Shall we proceed, Your Eminence?" To the Captain and Dani's surprise, his voice was an octave higher.

The King gestured toward his heir. The Doctor erected a level four privacy seal, glanced once at Janeway. Then he disappeared behind it.

Dani tried to swallow her giggles, but a few snorts kept gurgling out. So she covered her mouth with the palm of her hand.

Janeway's eyes slowly turned to look at her. "Don't," she snapped. "This situation isn't funny in any way."

So Dani turned her back, lifted her chin and tried so hard to get the image of a feminized Doctor out of her mind. When she failed, she just lowered her head and laughed silently, uncontrollably. She heard her mother start with angry and then heard a small disappointed gurgle in her throat, but she couldn't help it. The emotional upheaval needed a release and at this point, she couldn't shout her humiliation. So she surrendered to the absurd.

=/\=

When he finished, the Doctor emerged from the level 4 privacy seal, with the young woman fully dressed. Janeway saw the girls exchange smiles and regretted the need to be so harsh.

"Well, Doctor?" she asked.

"The Heir is untarnished," he announced. "Just as she claimed."

Dani's face snapped to him, her mouth dropped. She could feel her ears burning.

"Of course you would say that!" The king bellowed.

Janeway cursed herself for not anticipating this.

"You are just protecting that woman," he said, pointing a chubby finger at Dani.

"She's a girl," Janeway said. "She's barely fifteen."

"Almost sixteen," she replied, more for Merkit than her father.

"Fifteen?" said both Merkit and her father.

Merkit frowned uncomfortably while her father began to pace. "She cannot be a child," he said. "She is a full grown woman. My Merkit—The Derevo would never dally with a scrap like her."

The veins in Janeway's neck bulged. It was years of training that kept her anger from boiling over. "She's a child. Her height is from her mother's side."

The comment stilled the King. "Mother? I thought you were her mother."

"I am," she replied. "Eridani has two mothers."

"What of her father?"

Janeway swallowed hard, sensing a cataclysmic eruption. "She has two mothers. No father."

"Impossible!"

"No, actually, Your Eminence, it is quite possible," the Doctor replied in soft, lilting tones. "With a little scientific ingenuity. It is more than possible."

The King turned an incendiary gaze to Janeway. "Is this a forbidden _pleasure _ship? Sent to infect our world with your brand of perversity? Then you spring your youth on some unsuspecting woman and your doctor provides a false report so she will be reintegrated into our society, like a virus among us."

"That's a little far-fetched," the Doctor said.

The King glared at the Doctor pointedly. "Only if it is _not_ true."

"Are you suggesting that I would lie?" The painted fingertips of the Doctor's right hand laid delicately on his chest.

"No, I'm not suggesting anything of the kind," the King shouted. "I know you did. To cover up for her." He pointed angrily at Dani, who took a half step back in alarm.

"Eminence," Janeway said through nearly gritted teeth. "Can we retrieve someone from your planet to verify this?"

"Wait a minute!" Dani shouted. "I don't want anyone else poking where they don't belong!"

"Dani!" Janeway whispered.

The King threw his hand her way. "There! You see. You are hiding something. Why would she object if she were a virgin?"

Dani pursed her lips, her nose began to flare. "Why would I object?" The question seemed incomprehensible. "How about if I stuck a red hot poker—"

"Eridani Elizabeth Janeway! Cut it!" Janeway snapped. "Let me handle this!"

When Dani closed her mouth, Janeway inhaled slowly, scratching her head. "Doctor, could you please take Dani with you to the real sickbay and wait for me there?"

The Doctor nodded, holding out his red nail polished fingers for Dani, who grasped them. As they walked out, Dani heard her mother order Seven of Nine to sickbay.

_Wonderful_, she thought. _Just dandy._

=/\=

They walked several meters before the Doctor spoke. He felt compelled to say something since every crewmember probably was wondering what he was doing in drag holding the hand of a 15-year-old girl.

When he cleared his throat, Dani rolled her eyes. She was waiting for the lecture. She was surprised when he said something else.

"I feel like I'm in experimental theater," he said, watching the reaction of each and every face that passed him. "Or it's a trip back to when theater was performed by males only. Even female characters were portrayed by the men. Oh, yes," he said to Dani's incredulous look. "Earth history is filled this ancient absurdities. Of course, we did outgrow them, which is more than I can say for the Vashkoi."

"You aren't supposed to criticize the culture of another race," Dani pointed out.

"Oh, pish," he said. "Not every culture is right, particularly when they're values are diametrically opposite to commonly cherished beliefs like equality." He smiled at Dani. "And you may tell that to Lt. Tal. That should kick up quite the discussion of Federation relativism."

He smiled smugly as he entered the turbolift. When his hand curled around a handle, he marveled at his manicured fingertips. He held it out at arms length, tilting his head to catch the light. "Did I ever tell you I was your mother once?"

"What?"

"Oh," he smacked her shoulder playfully. "Silly. I mean your mother had to conceal me in her cybernetic matrix when the Delta Flyer was commandeered by a band of photonic-phobes. I got to be Seven of Nine for two glorious days. I think what I loved the most was the cream cheese pie." He looked around to find Dani staring at him, with a look he'd never seen before. "Imagine with me, Dani. Suddenly I was corporeal. I could feel and taste. Oh, the air conditioner on my skin felt like kisses. Or what I imagine kisses to be. Well, I don't really have to imagine those anymore," he said with a shy smile. "I did kiss the commanding officer of the ship sent to imprison us."

"You were a weasel slut?"

He looked aghast at the girl. "Where did you pick up such a vulgar expression? Really, Eridani Elizabeth."

Her smile vanished. "Don't call me that," she hissed.

"I think it's a perfectly lovely name. In any event, I was trying to save our lives. They knew I existed, but their laws prohibited photonics in their region of space. Your mother was furious at me."

"Which one?"

"Seven, of course," he said, twisting a lock of hair at his shoulder in a curiously feminine fashion as he mused. "She told me I abused her body. How dare I?"

"Did she actually yell?"

"Like a banshee!"

The idea of her Borg mother getting so agitated seemed alien, as alien as the Doctor with C cup breasts.

"But Seven had no choice but to let me control her for a few more hours."

The turbolift stopped and opened at Deck 4. They walked out together, coming to the sick bay just as Seven of Nine did. She raised an eyebrow, inspecting the Doctor from head to toe. "Doctor," she replied in a cool, even tone.

"What happened to you?" both Dani and the Doctor shouted.

Seven ran a hand over her completely bald pate. It was paler than the rest of her, giving her an almost glowing look.

"I cut my hair. Do you like it?"

"Yes," the Doctor replied while Dani gave an emphatic "no!"

"It's lovely," the Doctor said, running fingertips along the base of her skull. "I've always admired the naked human pate. Besides, you don't have all of those follicles mucking up the beauty of your eyes." The Doctor waggled his own for emphasis. "Though, now I do. It's the curse of beauty."

"You look…" Dani tipped her head, letting her eyes wander along her mother's scalp. "You look like a Bolian."

Seven lifted a chin. "I have neither blue skin nor a bifurcated ridge," she pointed out.

As they entered sickbay, Seven studied the Doctor head to toe again. "And what is the occasion of your transformation? And, more importantly, do you intend to remain transgender?"

The Doctor glanced up fluttering his long eyelashes while he thought. "I do feel in touch with my yin," he replied.

Dani eyed him curiously. "Do I really want to know what a ying is?" Dani asked.

"Yin—no 'g'—and it's the feminine in all of us," he said. "It's from one of the ancient Earth beliefs."

"You're not going to stay like this, right?" Dani asked with a hint of scorn.

The Doctor looked horrified. "Why wouldn't I? Women are beautiful. Maybe I was meant to be a female doctor."

"I do not believe your personality would suit a woman," Seven said evenly.

The Doctor gave a hurt look. "Seven," he said in his light voice. "That hurts my feelings."

Seven arched a brow. "You are a hologram," she replied.

"I'm a female hologram and I have feelings," he said with a suggestion of distress. "But I thank you for your honesty. I always appreciate girlfriends who can shoot straight."

Seven gave a confused look about the idiomatic expression, but the Doctor continued before she could ask. "I don't think I've ever really thanked you for saving me from the photonic hunters."

He leaned forward to pull Seven close in a surprise hug. Seven's arms dangled at her side and her eyes were saucer-sized as the Doctor squeezed her against himself. "Thank you."

Dani chuckled at the scene.

When she had straightened herself, Seven regarded him coolly. "A verbal expression of gratitude would have sufficed," she noted.

"Not for me!" he said in a melodic tone.

In his office, he gestured for the two to sit down. "I think I'm going to...freshen up." Then the Doctor dematerialized.

Seven turned her incisive sights on her daughter, with a bemused expression. Dani stared at the play of lights on her mother's scalp.

"Did you shave your eyebrow too?"

Seven touched the right brow. "I did."

"That's weird, Mom," she replied, eyeing her mother closely. "Does Cap know?"

At the mention of her spouse, Seven straightened. "You are attempting to divert my attention."

Dani's face fell and she stiffened, giving her mother the only answer she needed.

"Do the Doctor's new physical parameters and behavior algorithms have anything to do with the incident in Holodeck one?"

Dani winced, biting her lower lip for good measure. "Um, yeah, a little."

"Explain." The tone was sharp and could have cut tritanium plating with one stroke.

Dani held her breath and relived the last ninety minutes of her life. Dani felt as if she were in a frying pan, with Seven's blink-less gaze on her. When she finally finished, she tugged her collar open and instructed the computer to lower the ambient temperature by five degrees.

"If I may clarify," her mother said. "Your hands were on her—?"

"Irrelevant!" Dani cried, her temple veins corded. "My hands busy!"

"As hers were busy as well?"

Dani colored and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Um, yeah."

"Considering this may lead to an interstellar diplomatic incident—"

"Let me just self-destruct now," Dani murmured into her palm.

"—I am sure Captain Janeway will have to make a note of this in the official Voyager logs."

"Oh, shit!"

Janeway strode through the sickbay door, just in time to hear the swearing. Her tight expression was not prepared for the sight of her bald partner. She came up short on the door, stopping abruptly to see a bald Seven of Nine.

A cry of frustration strangled in her throat before she could reign it in. "What on earth—?"

Seven ran her fingers down the back of her head and her neck. She raised an eyebrow and her ocular implant to invite a comment. But Janeway only bit down hard on her molars and physically turned to face their daughter. The hair fight with Seven could wait.

She placed fists on her hips and turned to fix her daughter with an icy stare.

"What do you think you were doing today?"

Janeway's tone nearly drew blood from Dani. "Uh, I was being friendly," she said with a little laugh and a hiccup.

Janeway threw a hand up, turning around to begin a frenetic pace. "Friendly? You were being—"

"Kathryn," Seven said quietly. "May I speak with you in private?"

Kathryn stopped and stared at Seven with a stony expression. Seven raised an eyebrow, refusing to look away. Janeway's eyes finally softened and she nodded. They stepped out of the office, both relieved the sickbay was deserted.

Kathryn peered up into the blonde's face. Seven could see the signs of shaking fury in her lover. "I believe a moderation of tone would be warranted." The words were soft, delivered in a logical manner.

Kathryn peered over her shoulders at the girl, who had slumped back. Her legs dangled off the Chief Medical Officer's desk.

"Eridani is perplexed and discomfited after having been made a public spectacle at a moment so profoundly private." Seven put a hand to Kathryn's waist, squeezing the flesh there. "She needs her mother, not the Captain at this moment."

Janeway looked back, squinting her eyes at Seven. "I'm not anger at her," she explained. The Captain rubbed her chin. "When two semi-nude bodies fell out of nowhere on the holodeck, the King started to shout threats at his daughter and then the ship."

"That sounds unmajestic," Seven replied.

"Then he started to went after Dani." Janeway's delivery was dispassionate, but Seven could still see the remnants of fury in the shaking hands.

Seven put a hand on her spouses, not surprised when the Captain shook free of it. "I'm doing the best I can to balance the needs of the ship with those of our daughter."

Seven recognized that the Captain was searching her face, looking for something comforting. But she was not sure what comment would allay her worries.

So instead Seven acknowledge the situation with a tip of her head. "Then she needed her Captain. But no longer."

Kathryn tipped her head to one side and gestured with her chin to the bald Borg. "Does this new hairdo have something to do with this morning?"

"Perhaps," Seven replied mysteriously.

Kathryn's eyes traveled across the dome of Seven's head. "I suppose our discussion from earlier isn't over."

"You are very perceptive, Captain."

Janeway finally chuckled, despite how things had spun out of control in the last two hours. "Thank you," she relied, before clasping her hands in front of her. "We'll talk later…" Kathryn eyed Seven's head. "If you want."

"I want," Seven replied. "That is the reason for this course of action."

"Ah," Kathryn replied before pivoting around. "I figured as much."

"Dani," Kathryn said quietly. She felt Seven close behind her, as Dani sat up. "When I talked about first contact, I didn't know you'd take me so literal."

Seven suppressed a smile, while Dani groaned. "I think I prefer the shouting," the girl whispered, still unable to meet Cappie's incisive gaze.

Kathryn nodded, wishing that Dani were a crewmember under her command. She would have wrapped this scenario up fifteen minutes ago. She covered her mouth with her hand. She walked over to the Doctor's desk, picked up a padd and keyed some entries. Then she suddenly looked up.

"Seven, please remind me. Are there any shipsystems technical manuals that Dani hasn't memorized?"

Seven answered from the immense amount of data the woman stored in her Borg mind. "No, Eridani has been required to memorize the entire ship's operation manual. She has been apprenticed to every department to date and has scrubbed the plasma conduits on three separate occasions."

"That's what I thought," Janeway replied.

"I think we should go with time served," Dani suggested. Her charming grin, which had often gotten her out of scrapes with many crewmembers, hit a brick wall with her mother.

"It's not going to be that easy," Janeway said, thumbing through one of the ship's database. Then she handed it to her daughter. "Let the punishment fit the crime."

"What's this?" Dani looked at it in disbelief.

"Starfleet Protocols."

"Oh," she said, letting her hand drop to her thigh where the padd smacked her.

"I want you to start memorizing them—"

"What?"

"—Beginning with the Starfleet Regulation regarding intimate relationships with alien species."

"Why?"

"I suppose it's really my fault," Janeway mused, rubbing her chin. "We should have had the birds and the bees discussion with you months ago."

"I believe it was you who was reticent to begin that discussion," Seven pointed out.

"Not a can of worms I wanted to open."

"Someone evidently believed otherwise." Seven's sardonic look almost made Janeway smile. Almost.

"We can't unopen cans," Janeway said in that folksy way of hers. "In any event, the Starfleet regs will begin to correct the matter."

Dani gave her mother a pained look. "I'm not in Starfleet and I don't _ever_ want to be in Starfleet."

They'd discussed her disinterest in attending Starfleet Academy when they returned to the Alpha Quadrant many times. Dani would never cite a reason for her prickly distaste for all things Starfleet, while Kathryn would not accept a definitively negative answer from her daughter. It was a stalemate that was tenuously close to all-out war. But it wasn't enough to get Dani off the hook this time.

"That's not at issue here," the Captain pointed out. "You live on a Starfleet vessel. We are probably Starfleet's first generational ship and we just got new rules. _Everyone_ will abide by Starfleet regulations and protocols, thanks to you."

Dani bit her lower lip and looked away. "We didn't have it," she whispered.

"Excuse me?" Kathryn asked, pulling closer.

"We didn't do _it_."

Janeway shook her head. "Darling, if you are going to become intimate with someone you really should be brave enough to say 'sex.'"

Dani's head snapped back, giving Cappie her own version of a 100-megaton blast of a glare. "I said we didn't even have..._sex_." She couldn't keep the quaver out though.

Janeway shared a meaningful look with Seven. "Irrelevant," she said finally with the toss of a hand. "Starfleet regulations..." Janeway tapped the padd in her daughter's hand, "describe it as an 'intimate relationship.' Lips around someone's breast is pretty intimate, wouldn't you say?"

Dani closed her eyes, willing herself not to blush. But she could feel the burn. _This is not happening to me,_ she thought morosely. She kept her eyes closed, but moved her head as if she were looking at her mother. "Fine," she whispered. "Just. Fine."

"How's your arm?"

"Achy."

Janeway hated the one-word answer routine Dani started when she turned twelve. She wasn't in the mood today to deal with it. "Do you have any questions?"

Dani shook her head and mouthed "no." Her eyes remaining closed.

"Am I clear?"

"Yes, Cappie."

"All right," she replied. "I have one other thing."

Dani moaned and looked to Seven for help. Her Borg mother crossed her arms. "Cappie is speaking with you, Eridani."

Dani slumped back, knowing that a united front couldn't be broken between those two.

"As the Captain, I am responsible for everyone on this ship—"

"I know that!" Dani snapped.

"And everything they do."

"I know that, too."

"And that means it's my responsibility to fix things if you get in over your head."

Dani's face softened, remembering how her mother had run interference with the Merkit's furious kingly father. "And I'm grateful."

Janeway smiled faintly. "You're welcome," she replied. "But the next time we have a diplomatic blowout, I'd appreciate your cooperation—"

"But—"

"Or at least your silence, until we are alone."

"Fine."

"I know someday you'll understand what I mean—when you're a Starfleet Captain."

Dani's face hardened instantly. "Never."

"We'll see," she said. Janeway inhaled deeply. "Now let me soothe the Vashkoi king so we can get our deuterium."

Before Janeway had even made it out of sickbay, her commbadge chirped.

"_Commander Chakotay to Captain Janeway. Long range sensors have picked up the fireflies on a vector course heading to our coordinates."_

Janeway thought of the visiting dignitaries and frowned.

"I'll be right there, Commander. In the meantime, I want the Vashkoi off my ship. See if they'll send up the deuterium."

"Aye, Captain."

Immediately, the lights went dim with just running lights on the deck in sickbay and every corridor and non-essential station. The engines were powered down and all available power was re-routed to reinforce the shields and inertial dampners.

Janeway braced herself as she stumbled toward the bridge, as wave after wave of fireflies pounded the ship. She could see some of them fly through the ship's deck and bulkheads, disrupting conduits and other systems.

What more could go wrong today? she wondered.


	4. Separation Anxiety

**A/N: Thank you for your reviews. They are very kind and encouraging. Please enjoy this chapter.**

**"Living Daylights"**  
**Chapter 3: Separation Anxiety**

Captain Janeway and the rest of the bridge officers watched the viewscreen impassively as points of light hurtled toward them. It was like someone poured milk into open space from an enormous pitcher several parsecs above the ship.

She'd remarked the last time this happened only a few weeks ago that the spectacle of descending lights had a bizarre inertial effect on her belly. "I feel as if I'm falling," she had said.

This time was no different. Janeway felt the compression deep in her midsection, along with the accompanying wave of nausea. She bit down on her molars as Lt. Paris counted down the approach of the lights.

"Captain, the Treveti ships are powering their forward phasers," Commander Tuvok informed.

"Raise shields," she ordered.

"Shields at maximum," Commander Tuvok replied.

She put a hand to her chin. "Hail them! Treveti vessel this is Captain Janeway. We are here on a mission of commerce. We intend you or the Vashkoi no harm. Please call off your attack."

"You are holding the Derevo" came a static, nearly garbled message.

"Captain, the EM radiation from the fireflies is interfering with the comm signal."

"Compensate," she barked. "Treveti ship, we are holding no one captive—"

"Return her at once or suffer the consequences!"

"The fireflies are closing, Captain," Mr. Paris said. "Five hundred kilometers until impact."

"The Treveti ships are firing," Tuvok said.

The ship tossed. "Report!" Janeway yelled.

"Shields are holding, but down to 95 percent."

"Mr. Paris, the lights?"

Tom looked up at the screen. "100 kilometers."

"The Treveti are firing again."

The ship shuddered under the firepower of three ships. "Hold your fire," Janeway shouted. "We need every ounce of power we can muster to withstand the lights. Status of inertial dampeners?"

"Online," Lt. Kim said.

"They're here!" Tom said, looking up to watch the viewscreen.

In a blink, the lights became distorted streaks. But instead swarming Voyager as before and turning the viewscreen white, the lights streamed around them and some through the ship.

"Captain! The lights are converging on the Treveti ships," Tuvok said.

"Let's see it," she said.

The viewscreen showed the lights pouring over the three ships flanking Voyager.

"The Treveti have issued a mayday alert," Tuvok said.

"Well, how do you like that?" Janeway mused. "What's happening?"

"The electromagnetic beings are simply flooding the Treveti ships. The Treveti admiral is hailing us."

The viewscreen switched to the bridge of a Treveti ship, its interior was completely red, bulkheads, consoles and chairs, all the same color. The Treveti admiral was lean, with angular features. His hairy face was contorted in rage and a gleaming knife glinted under the ship's lights. "Why have you done this to us?"

In the background, the white lights were invading the bodies of the Treveti crew, who were contorting in pain as the lights systematically incinerated them from the inside out. Janeway strangled a cry of frustration in her throat. She dropped her hand from her chin. "Let's see if our plan can help the Treveti," she said, turning on her heels.

"Ready deflector dish," she said, as she settled into her command chair.

"Deflector dish fully powered," Lt. Kim replied.

Janeway looked up. "Captain to Chief Medical Officer. Are you ready?"

"_As ready as I'll ever be."_

Janeway could feel Lt. Paris' curious look at the syrupy and feminine reply of the CMO. "Don't ask," she replied, without looking at him. "Not now."

Janeway focused on the white-covered ships of the Treveti.

"Is Commander Chakotay with you?"

"_I'm here, Captain."_

"All right, let's see if we can communicate with these beings."

=/\=

Chakotay was dressed in his traditional buckskin with geometric Native American designs embroidered along the collar that matched his tattoo. Its fringes swayed in the breeze upon the high mountain top ruins surrounded by deep gorges in Holodeck Two. He stood with the Doctor beside a ceremonial monolith in the middle of ancient Native American ruins on a high plateau.

The Doctor's still long dark hair blew across his feminine shoulders. He held his arms across his chest, his red fingernails catching the sun. The Doctor ran his hand over his unruly locks.

"What is this place?" he yelled to be heard above the windswept peak.

"Machu Picchu—a sacred place from Earth. I thought it would be a fitting place for this."

The Doctor arched a finely sculpted brow. For the previous use of the crystals, they'd merely used the default holodeck, gray walls and metal emitters. Ensign Hindaki Shibunawa had volunteered to take the thirteenth crystal skull from the replicator to the holodeck.

It had taken nearly thirty minutes for the replicator to complete the entire cycle, reproducing the crystal human skull with exacting reproduction. Shibunawa had clasped the heavy skull between his palms and carried it gingerly to Holodeck Two where it was placed in a circle with the other twelve. The instant the skull had broken the circumferential plane of the other 12, they all began to glow orange and then red. No lights had been seen for parsecs and yet, in that moment, the lights fell on them as if they'd been there the entire time.

Four of the fireflies entered Shibunawa, cremating him from the inside out. He had been reduced to gray ash within thirty seconds. The thirteenth skull had fallen half buried into the sooty remains.

From then on, the skulls were materialized onto the holodeck. The beings were summoned, but they never remained long. They responded to no person, no noise and no attempts to contain them in Voyager's efforts to communicate.

Captain Janeway and the rest of the crew hoped today would be different. This would mark the first time they utilized the Doctor, a photonic being, to communicate with them.

"Captain," Chakotay said. "We're ready."

He heard her give the command to lower the shields.

When the Doctor crossed a meridian of the circle, the lights appeared as if instantly. They were orange and shifting to red, and they swarmed the Doctor. Finally two entered him, then four and then six.

His features froze, his face coloring to red and then orange amid the swirling electromagnetic beings inside of him. He gurgled once when Chakotay shouted his name. But he was immobile and his eyes were two giant orbs and his mouth opened.

=/\=

The Captain's hand was turning white as she clung to the arm of the Command chair. She wondered why the beings had appeared to be toying with them. _They seem to be protecting us from the Treveti, yet they have themselves harmed us._ _Why couldn't they just take the ship in one leap if they were so fast?_ she wondered. _It was clear they had the power. _No one could provide a satisfactory answer and, for the scientist she was, it was maddening. How could they solve the riddle if they had no data?

The ship's metal-grinding moans covered her exasperated curse. Voyager was never designed to be operational for fourteen years. Most Starfleet ships were decommissioned well before safety became an issue. Planned obsolescence it was called. _God knows Voyager had given more to the crew, but circumstances required even more. So much more and Voyager had to hold it together._

Captain Janeway glanced up at the viewscreen. Through intermittent flashes, she could still see the swirling white clouds above the blue planet of Vashkoi. _That's something_, she thought.

"_Andrews to Captain Janeway."_

"Go ahead."

"_Captain, I thought you should know the transporters just failed."_

She scratched her forehead pessimistically. "Were you able to transport the Vashkoi king and his entourage home?"

"_Negative too much EM interference was…." _

His voice became distorted and then Janeway felt the jolt. Even with the inertial dampeners, the crew reported feeling the sudden acceleration by the lights.

"You're breaking up, Andrews. Just stay with them." Janeway bolted up. "Janeway to Engineering, cut the warp engines."

"_Aye, Captain," _replied Lt. Torres.

"Here we go," Janeway murmured.

But no one could hear. The ship was vibrating at a dangerous level. Every mega joule of power, except life support, was rerouted to hull integrity. It took nearly everything they had to keep Voyager from flying apart because she was never designed to withstand this much acceleration.

By their best extrapolations, the lights pushed the ship to nearly warp 19, if it were a velocity any Starfleet engine could maintain. Federation theory stated warp 10 was an infinite speed and unsustainable. Janeway wondered what propulsion experts would say to the fact that Voyager had smashed that hypothetical speed limit nearly twice over.

"Time?" she shouted.

Paris struggled to fight the tremendous g-force to look down at his console. He clasped the sides of his console to twist the station chair a micromillimeter. "Twenty minutes, Captain," he shouted. "The longest sustained acceleration we've recorded."

"Captain," Lt. Kim shouted. "The lights are shifting to red and look."

The white viewscreen relented to reveal normal space. The ship decelerated and then drifted until Mr. Paris initiated thrusters.

Meanwhile, the Bridge crew witnessed lights turning red and then winking out.

"That's new," Janeway said, touching her chin with her fingertips. "What do sensors say, Mr. Kim?"

"It's like thousands of small explosions. Plasma gas, degenerate particles, stray electrons. Small energy discharges."

"It's as if they've died," she mused.

"But light does not live, Captain," Tuvok pointed out.

Still staring at the black screen, Lt. Kim volunteered the obvious. "Yet they're gone."

"Mr. Kim, what is our position?" Janeway said, rising from the seat. "Casualties, Mr. Tuvok?"

Mr. Kim blinked several times at the consoles. He pressed several buttons and reassessed the data, his face flushing to ghostly white.

"Captain," Tuvok replied. "No casualties are reported. However, King Conail, the Derevo and the other Vashkoi remain aboard Voyager."

She waved a hand. "First things first, Mr. Tuvok." She pivoted toward Lt. Kim and two fists found their way to her hips. "Harry?"

He shook his head and looked up, a panic could be seen in his dark eyes. It was one the Captain hadn't seen since their first day aboard the ship.

"Captain, if my readings are correct, we are twenty-five light years from our last position."

"Don't tell me we went _away_ from Sector Zero Zero One, Lieutenant," Janeway ordered. "I do not want to hear that. I want us 25 light years _closer_."

"Sorry, Captain," he whispered.

"Damn." She glanced at the viewscreen and squinted at the brilliant blue hue. "Then where the hell are we?"

"There is a large debris field ahead, orbiting the moon of a gas giant planet. The four planets in this system orbit a Blue Giant sun."

"Blue," she purred, the flicker of the insatiably curious scientist peaked out. "What's the star's diameter?"

"Approximately 780 million kilometers," he whispered with awe in his voice. "It's on the cusp of engulfing one of the planets."

"If the Blue Giant were in Sector Zero Zero One," Tuvok mused, "it would nearly engulf Jupiter Station."

The blue plasma of the giant star was swirling and licking upward into the atmosphere. A small, M-class planet appeared to be a speck beside the giant sun.

"This star is in the last stages of its evolution," Janeway said.

"Though it would be fascinating to watch the death cycle of a blue giant," Tuvok said. "May I remind you that it would consume us in its explosion. If that did not succeed in destroying us, we could be obliterated by the gamma ray bursts its collapse could possibly bring or we could be dragged into the black hole created at its center."

"Oh, Tuvok," Lt. Paris teased. "You Vulcans are all alike with your sunny dispositions. Pun intended."

A ghost of a smile faded in and quickly out of Janeway's lips as she continued to study the spectacular scene. But the weight of her responsibilities kept her focused. "How much hydrogen remains in the star?"

"Fusion is slowing," Tuvok said, looking up from his console.

"Once the hydrogen is exhausted, the star will collapse," Janeway said, reminding herself of a star's life cycle.

"There's more bad news," Mr. Kim said in nearly a whisper.

The Captain peered back at him, wondering where the boyish face had gone, after nearly fourteen years. "What is it?"

"Five light years starboard will put us _outside_ the Milky Way Galaxy." He swallowed hard, knowing the impact of his own words.

She turned back to gaze out. "Magnify viewscreen."

The Blue Giant disappeared and more stars twinkled. "Magnify a hundred times, Mr. Kim."

Palpable darkness appeared on the screen.

"The interstellar void," Tom whispered. "If we left our galaxy, we'd be hopelessly lost."

The Captain straightened herself and steeled her expression. "The edge of the galaxy would be quite an adventure, but I don't want to see a supernova up close either. Tom, hard about. Let's get the hell out of here."

"Aye, Captain," said the helmsman, his hands bouncing nimbly between the keys on his console.

Suddenly, Voyager lurched. Janeway fell to one knee as the crew clung to their consoles or the railing. "Report!" the Captain barked.

"A tractor beam—a very, very powerful tractor beam—has got us, Captain," Kim said. "It's pulling us toward the moon, toward the debris field."

"Re-route all available to the warp engines!"

"Shields at ten percent—shields are gone!"

Suddenly, the ship was engulfed in a green energy beam. The shipsystems were opened, as with a screwdriver, sparks flying. The intermix chamber of the warp core was drained of every molecule of deuterium. Inside, crewmembers were lifted like rag dolls and their bodies scanned. Then seventy-five percent of the crew just vanished, along with the ships energy reserves.

=/\=

Captain Janeway groaned, as she rolled over. Her head felt like it had been diced and boiled and then doused with one of Neelix' deliriously hot spices. She lifted her head gingerly and her nose flared at the decomposing leaves under her. She pushed herself up with her hands, peering around. It was a sweltering jungle. Cooing and ticking sounds reverberated through the trees.

The blue sun pulsated waves of unbearable heat through the thinning tree leaves. Despite the brilliance of the dying sun and the reflection of the gas giant planet nearby, it was still very shaded and dark under the tree canopy, and sweltering. She stood up, sweat beading across her brow. She unzipped her tunic and then saw movement toward her left.

The Captain reached for her phaser, but there was nothing, not even a tricorder.

"Captain? It is I, Seven."

Against all probability, a blonde beauty parted the fern-like leaves and Janeway swore she heard a symphony at the appearing of her beloved, like Venus rising from the ocean.

"Are you all right, darling?" she asked, stepping closer to visually inspect the Borg.

Seven raised her arms, submitting to the examination. "I am undamaged, though I am experiencing unpleasant sensations at the base of my skull."

"I have a headache, too," Janeway said. She rubbed her temple and assessed their location. "I think we've been transported to the Amazon."

Seven furrowed her brow and her eyes searched the vicinity. She lifted a big, rubbery green leaf. "The vegetation is dense," she replied.

The Captain touched her commbadge. "Janeway to Voyager."

The response was static. She glanced up. Through the leaves, she glimpsed the blue sun that nearly filled the entire sky while a large portion was filled with an orange gas planet with brilliant rings. "Spectacular view," Janeway, the scientist, remarked.

She looked back at Seven and touched her commbadge again. "Janeway to any Voyager crew."

More static ensued.

Janeway shared a look with Seven after they heard a macaw-like echo. Janeway looked around her feet. "I'd venture to say that we could be mistaken for lunch at any time."

"I do not have a phaser," Seven reported.

"Me neither," Janeway said, bending to pick up a fallen limb and bounced it in one hand. "But I've got a club now."

Seven lifted a brow. "Crude," she said in monotone.

"Sometimes less is more and in this case, less is better than nothing," she replied, handing another heavier drumstick of a limb to her spouse.

Seven took the rod and set it on edge, as she whipped out a tricorder.

Janeway gave her a crooked smile. "I love a girl who comes on a date prepared."

Seven looked up briefly to eye the Captain before returning her gaze to the tricorder readings and pivoting around. "I was not aware you had arranged this excursion as a social engagement for us," she replied.

Janeway shook her head. "Oh, no, darling. Believe me! If I was going to plan a nice little getaway for us, this would not be my first choice," she said, her arms akimbo to gesture to the teeming tropical forest. "In fact, it would be even make top ten."

"Ah, that is a relief. I had feared you had considered this to be our honey moon."

"Darling?" Janeway whispered.

Seven glanced up from her readings.

"If this were our honeymoon, you wouldn't be standing in this sweltering jungle," she said.

"No?"

Janeway shook her head, her eyes locked with Seven's. "I wouldn't be standing either and neither of us would be wearing a damn thing."

"The honey moon agenda sounds…_agreeable_." She nodded once for emphasis, earning a small smirk from Janeway, and then looked down at the beeping tricorder. "As we both have surmised, we are on the surface of the third moon orbiting the gas giant planet. Temperature is 34 degrees Celsius. Censors indicate a communication dampening field is emanating from moon's surface."

"Terrific."

"Crew signals appear to be out of range. However, water is available in that direction." She pointed in front of them. "Approximately three kilometers near a large mountain."

"Water and a view," she said, turning in the direction Seven indicated.

Janeway was about to take the lead, when a strong Borg arm grabbed her bicep. "I believe it would be wise to allow me to lead this expedition, Captain, as my Borg physiology affords me greater protection from venomous bites."

Janeway gestured for her to proceed.

"However," Seven continued. "I believe there are several procedures we should implement now."

Janeway gave an inquiring look that turned to curiosity when Seven extended her hand.

"I require your socks and underwear."

Janeway crossed her arms. "Is that a joke, Seven?"

"It was not an attempt at humor, no," she said. "In my review of jungle survival, the first order is the need to secure clothing and any item that would hinder evaporation."

Janeway's expression was dubious. "Evaporation?"

"Certain mycobacteria thrive in moist environments and induce large ulcers of the skin and—"

"Jungle rot," she said finally. "I get the picture, Seven. Thank you. But when did you study jungle survival?"

Seven lowered her gaze and her hesitation made the Captain's stomach tighten. "Eridani advised me to review Starfleet's Tropical Survival Manual."

"When?" she snapped.

Seven expected this reaction to their daughter's prescience. "Two days ago, she received a message from her Borg implant."

Janeway bit down on her molars. "Dammit," she hissed, as she slumped again against the fallen tree to remove her shoes. She dunked the damp black socks into Seven's waiting hands and then stood up, eyeing Seven as she unbuttoned her Starfleet trousers.

Seven slung a sock over each shoulder as she continued to supervise Janeway's undressing.

"Why didn't you inform me?" Janeway finally asked, shoving her pants down.

Seven's gaze went involuntarily to the sleek outline of toned thigh muscles that her spouse had revealed. Without looking up, she replied calmly: "Because you ordered me not to inform you of those events."

Janeway let her arms hang down and her head lolled back. "I know I did, Seven. I'm sorry. Those messages are such a horrible intrusion, particularly when we cannot identify the source."

"They are a source of irritation for Eridani as well, since by the very nature of being predictive of future events, the commentary are mysterious and bizarre."

Janeway inhaled deeply and blew out some air. She and Seven had had this discussion more times than she could remember. The same data was exchanged, the same emotions and nothing could be done about the messages. "It doesn't bode well for this unexpected excursion since the messages usually only appear before dire emergencies."

Seven wiggled her human fingers. "Panties," she ordered peremptorily.

"You're enjoying this," she said.

Seven lifted her chin and looked away slightly. "Not at all," she replied. "We are on an away mission for the foreseeable future and under those circumstances the Captain's body is off limits to pleasure."

Seven was about to add something but the sight of Captain Janeway's tangle of short auburn curls at the apex of her legs overwhelmed the Borg's vocal processors.

Kathryn stepped out of the intimate undergarment and handed them to Seven. "What are you going to do with those?"

Seven tucked them discreetly into her biosuit before rezipping it. "The Starfleet manual indicates we may strain water through them for our consumption." Seven's expression was straight, as if she had just delivered a dry report about realigning the holo-emitters in the Astrometrics Lab.

Kathryn wiggled her own fingers. "Where are _your_ panties?"

Seven arched a brow sharply. "I have none."

The Captain's involuntary squeaking hiccup brought the faintest hint of amusement to Seven's lips.

Janeway's eyes darted down to peek, as if she could see through Seven's blue biosuit. "Now why would you forego your…undergarments," the Captain said, trying to infuse a bit of professionalism into a very personal discussion.

"It was a precaution, given the prophetic warning from Eridani. It is also fortuitous," she replied.

"How do you figure that?"

"Since I removed my hair follicles, my genital area…" It was not like Seven of Nine to falter with her expression. She was very exacting, even in her vocabulary.

"What, darling?"

Seven pressed her lips together slightly in the only show of an ambiguous emotion. "The regrowth of my pubic hair fuels a nearly overwhelming need to _scratch_."

"You're…itchy?" Janeway said, with a vague laugh in her voice. "Down, ah, there?"

Seven looked away from Janeway's mocking expression. "I am," she said. "An unwanted secondary effect to prove my argument with you."

When Seven looked up again she caught Janeway staring intently at her groin. "The rough material of my biosuit provides sufficient…_friction_…" Seven became dismayed when her spouse groaned. "Is the discussion of the unfortunate side effect stimulating your arousal, Kathryn?"

Janeway frowned. "No! Of course, not! In the middle of the jungle, while you're lecturing me about jungle rot? Don't be ridiculous!"

Janeway picked up her club as she stood straight, her mouth working hard to keep a straight face. Any reaction she gave would no doubt put her in the doghouse with Seven and it appeared it was going to be just the two of them for a while. An irritated Borg was an invitation to misery and she had no plans to accept it.

Then Janeway paused, her brows furrowed in a question. "If you knew about this jungle excursion ahead of time, why didn't you bring a phaser?"

"Eridani strictly prohibited a phaser or any other energy weapon on this mission."

"Why?"

"The message did not indicate."

"Damn," the captain said, with a frustrated expression. "I'm tired of the mysteries." She inhaled deeply to focus on the task. "Let's go find our crew."

The Captain tried hard to ignore Seven's newly bald pate as it glistened under the speckled lighting of the tree canopy. But she knew she failed when Seven's Borg hand brushed at it.

As they began to pick their way over vines, fallen trees and other vegetation clumps, Seven easily severed offending limbs in their path, more for Kathryn than herself.

"So are you going to tell me what possessed you to shave your head?" Janeway asked.

Seven swiped at branch, uprooting the main plant in the process of her disproportionately destructive sweep. She glanced back at Janeway briefly before replying: "Are you going to tell me what possessed you to extract your discolored hair follicles?"

Seven heard Kathryn sigh and they hiked in silence, except for the occasional bleating of jungle creatures that seemed to be following them. Every so often, the Captain would activate her commbadge to communicate with any other crew who may be in the vicinity. Static was always the only response.

After half a day's walk, Janeway plunked down on a fallen tree truck after brushing at some of the fungus growing on it. She hoisted her ankle up on a knee, removed the boot and massaged her foot. A blister was forming just below the big toe and at the heel.

"How far would you say we've walked?"

"One kilometer."

Janeway looked away to hide her discouragement.

"Distance is difficult to achieve through the dense vegetation of a jungle."

"What time is it, anyway?"

Before Seven could answer, the Captain's stomach growled. The Borg responded with a faintly inquiring look that Janeway ignored. "It is eighteen hundred hours."

"Already?" The Captain circled, looking up as she did. She nearly stumbled until Seven took her arm. "It still looks like noon!"

"A blue giant sun, particularly one so large will emit more light than a yellow giant," Seven said with a tone that suggested that she knew her spouse knew this.

"Couple that with the reflection of the Saturn-like planet and we have daylight all day and night."

"And heat," Seven said. "You require fluids. And sustenance."

"I require coffee," she retorted. "And a strawberry Danish." Janeway closed her eyes and hummed for a second. She snapped them open when Seven released her.

Seven had stepped closer to one of the tree trunks, examining it closely.

"Are you going to summon water from a tree trunk?"

In an agility that astounded the Captain—but shouldn't have given their antics in bed—Seven of Nine leapt up and gingerly gathered large, elephant-ear-like leaves. With her legs tightly wound around the tree trunk, she sopped up some moisture found on the underside after sampling some.

She handed the Captain a dripping black sock. "Drink this."

The Captain grimaced. "You're kidding, right?"

"I do not jest about survival," the Borg replied. "Drink."

"You should have brought your panties along for me," the Captain noted before tipping her head back.

By the time Seven replied, the Captain had begun to squeeze the sock over her open mouth.

"You _are_ aroused, Captain."

Janeway began to cough and sputter, pounding her own chest as her face turned a deep red.

"You disagree with my assessment?" Seven asked.

"No! I disagree with my sock. This is the worst tasting water since my Academy days when the cadets had to drink runoff water from a smokehouse during a survival exercise!"

"You require more," Seven said, holding out her hand.

"Seven of Nine!" the Captain growled.

Seven dropped her hand and tipped her head. It was not often that Kathryn Janeway raised her voice. "Yes?"

"I am not a doddering old fool—yet! I'll get my own damn water!"

Seven watched with growing alarm as the Captain made two attempts to climb the tree. On the third attempt, she succeeded in sopping up enough for both socks. She shimmied down and handed one to Seven. "With my compliments," she said through a wheezy pant.

Seven was impassive at the hint of salty in the water but the Captain screwed up her face and hissed long and low from the tangy fluid.

The damp socks were tied to a belt and allowed to air dry as they restarted their trek. "I can't believe we haven't run into anyone?" the Captain said after failing to reach a crewmember on the commbadge.

"It is a very large moon, nearly the size of earth."

"Why do you think we're here?"

Seven looked around. "I do not know nor do I have sufficient data to extrapolate. I do wonder if is this the destination the lights intended all along?"

"In the North American culture where I grew up," Janeway said. "Light is considered good. Perhaps it was my own prejudice to assume their benevolence—well, lack of overwhelming malevolence would be more appropriate."

"We shall return to the ship, Kathryn."

The simple statement of faith from her spouse filled the Captain with a renewed sense of direction. And the next thought filled her with a renewed sense of urgency: "Do you think the children are all right?"

Janeway saw Seven hesitate only slightly as an clubbed arm came down to clear the path. "Eridani was clearly warned of these events and is adequately prepared."

=/\=

Dani Janeway opened her eyes to cold darkness, her stomach lurching as she floated inside the U.S.S. Voyager. She reflexively flung her legs and arms out to anchor herself, making her body pitch forward and spin as she hovered above what she thought was the plating. Not only was artificial gravity gone, but so were lights and the heat. Even emergency lights were exhausted.

She kicked out her legs in an effort to find something to grab. The reaction only propelled her back, where she slammed into a bulkhead and moaned. Despite the blow to her head and torso, Dani managed to grab some scaffolding to steady herself.

"Mom! Are you here?" She listened and the silence was overwhelming, especially for someone accustomed to the hum and tick of the ship.

The last thing she remembered was her Borg mother stepping into their quarters, when the red alert klaxon sounded and the rocking began. They were both seized by a strange force field. When Dani awoke, she was alone.

She fumbled and floated toward where she thought her parents' quarters were to pry open the door and pillage the phasers and flashlights from the secret compartment she wasn't supposed to know about.

"Now for the environmental suits on Deck 5 near the escape pods," she murmured.

Then she propelled herself along the bulkheads toward a Jeffries tube. Leveraging the hatch was difficult in zero G, especially in falling temperatures that were freezing the unlocking mechanism.

She reached behind her back and whipped out a phaser, aiming it carefully. The blast kicked back sparks she hadn't expected. In her efforts to avoid them, she careened back, spinning wildly in every direction. She was barely able to stop the three-dimensional gyrations in time to vomit her breakfast. Globules of already-digested Mulordia eggs spun around her and Dani tried to avoid running into them. But in doing so, she fell into another tailspin and teetered head over heels into them. The globules and accompanying odor clung to her Academy gray suit and she cursed a blue streak.

Finally she wiped her mouth, tucked the phaser back and entered the Jeffries tube. Navigating down in zero gravity was the easiest thing she'd done and she emerged onto Deck 5. The environmental suits fit length-wise, but her lean bones could hardly fill it out. But she was able to walk when she engaged the magnetic boots. She attached the helmet, only so she didn't have to carry it and engaged the oxygen. The warmth of the suit seeped slowly into her bones. But the stench of herself was unbearable, so began to breath through her mouth.

She stuffed a few other suits, along with other supplies into a backpack, and began a trek to find her parents or other members of the crew. "Maybe I'll even feel lonely enough to look for Shannon," she said to the empty corridor. Dani laughed, but only to fill the void. She'd give anything to have her sister with her.

=/\=

Janeway was leaning against a large rock while Seven loomed over her. "We must eat." Seven's tone was sharp.

Despite the hunger pangs, the Captain eyed Seven's idea of their meal. It was a long, green snake caught on a tree limb in front of them. "I can wait," she assured her spouse.

"Pips," Seven said through clenched teeth. "What were the contents of your last meal?"

The Captain wiped her mouth with her forearm. "Ah, coffee."

Seven crossed her arms.

"Mulordia eggs benedict that Dani made."

Seven's eyes narrowed menacingly.

"That I didn't eat because of the Vashkoi diplomatic function," she admitted reluctantly.

"Lunch?"

Janeway grimaced, shaking her head. "Coffee."

Seven arched a brow. "Inadequate, Kathryn."

Janeway's stomach growled on cue.

Kathryn threw her arms up in surrender. "Fine. Let's dine on alien reptile."

Seven retrieved a Starfleet-issue knife she had fashioned from flint stones. She turned to face her prey, searching the perimeter for any other snakes.

"Be careful, Seven," Janeway called.

"I shall, Captain."

Before she had even finished speaking, Seven's Borg hand lashed out, capturing the creature by its neck. It immediately coiled its muscular body around the length of her arm.

"Oh, shit, Seven! That thing is too big!"

In the blink of an eye, its severed head—sharp white teeth poised for a strike—lay on the ground in front of her. Seven kicked it away from her. "Do not touch the head. Despite being severed it may still have enough reflex to bite."

To prove her point, Seven prodded with her club. The teeth clamped down on it instinctively.

"Did I ever tell you that my parents were traditionalists?" Janeway asked, staring at the snake head.

Seven spared a moment to consider her garrulous wife. There were few predators that could make her flinch. Reptiles clearly were one such.

Seven began to try to uncoil the body, but it kept rewrapping itself. "Can you assist me, Pips?"

Janeway reached out to touch it and pulled back. She inhaled deeply and frowned. "It smells bad." She grabbed the tail and began to uncoil it from Seven's arm.

"The musk of its scales serve as a deterrent," she replied. Seven nodded to stumps on its side. "Vestigial limbs. That could be put it within the Phylum of—"

"Seven!" Janeway finally managed to shout. "Please. Do. Not. Classify. My. Dinner."

"Very well," she replied reluctantly. "But perhaps it is the last of its kind and we have hunted it to extinction."

"This sun is about to blow. It was crawling dead anyway."

As Janeway held it tightly with both arms, Seven began a long cut down the length of its body. The body tried to twist away from the knife. "How can it fight us?"

"Instinct," Seven said through gritted teeth.

Seven continued to cut the skin when Janeway fell to her haunches.

"Oh, dear," she said. She pointed to the exposed carcass on the ground, the white meat laid open.

Seven squatted beside her and she frowned at the white worms slithering inside what had been the snake's intestines.

"Unfortunately, those are parasites," Seven declared.

A vague sound of disgust gurgled in the Captain's throat. "This is why I am not a traditionalist. I prefer a well-cooked roast straight from the replicator."

Seven glanced up at her once. "That may also explain why you needlessly char the flesh of your dinner."

Janeway crinkled her nose at Seven. "You never complained when we were on Gweelee."

"Your cooking then was…competent," Seven said, resting her chin on her bicep as she studied a petulant Captain.

"Maybe I was trying to impress you." Janeway's crooked smile flashed brilliantly. "Did it work?"

"Yes," Seven said, pecking Janeway's nose before rising to her feet. "Despite the legends of your culinary calamities, you were a remarkable…housewife."

Janeway gave Seven a playful look of warning that curled the Borg's lips just so. Seven returned her study to the dead serpent.

"So I guess we'll have to eat vegetarian tonight."

"No," Seven said, using her knife to scrape the offending parasites from their former host. "I shall clean the flesh and then ensure that it is sufficiently fricasseed."

=/\=

As Dani clomped by sickbay she heard the faint crying. She engaged the magnetic lock of an emergency hand actuator and pried the door open. Like the rest of the ship, it was consumed in cold darkness. The helmet lights brightened sickbay as she searched it. She gasped to see the source.

A shivering Merkit was hovering helplessly over a biobed. She shrieked when the light beam fell on her.

Dani unfastened her helmet and removed it. "Merkit! You're okay. You're safe. It's me, Dani."

Dani reached up, tugging her down and into an embrace that was awkward but gratefully returned. She felt the woman curl her legs around one of Dani's. The vulnerability of that touched Dani profoundly.

"I knew you would come for me," Merkit whispered as she leaned up clumsily to kiss her.

Dani smiled as she tipped her head as far as it would go in the EV suit. But her smile faded when Merkit chastely pecked her forehead. Then Dani's smile vanished completely when the woman pulled back and grimaced.

Merkit crinkled her nose. "What is that stench?"

Dani frowned and pulled back unconsciously, releasing Merkit, who began to float up. The woman shrieked and Dani lunged forward to catch her hand. "Sorry," she whispered. "I, ah—that stench is me."

Dani took Merkit's smaller hands and pressed them to the edge of the biobed. "Hold on here. I have to get another EV suit."

Dani turned away, struggling to retrieve the backpack contents.

"What happened?" Merkit asked from behind her.

"I got sick when I was trying to open a door lock, well, I mean I started spinning wildly and well, let's just say I lost my breakfast."

"I thought you were born in space."

Dani shrugged, through the reaction was hidden by the overlarge suit. "Yeah, so."

Dani finally managed to free the EV suit and handed it to Merkit. When the dark almond eyes found hers, Dani felt a burn along her face and ears. She clamped her jaws down and forced herself not to look away.

"Put this on so you can walk about the ship."

Merkit lifted the heavy white garment and looked puzzled. "Is this what you have on?"

"It's a suit with magnetic boots and a heater inside."

The last feature perked up the princess and she began to unbutton her long silk tunic.

"You can leave your other clothes on."

Merkit nodded once and attempted to move away, but the ungainly motion nearly sent her spinning overhead again, until Dani caught her. "Whoa, there," Dani whispered. "Do you need help?"

Merkit shook her head. "No, I believe I can manage."

Dani stared at her a long moment before turning around. "Then I'll be checking to see if there are any systems still receiving power here while you do that."

Dani clomped to the Doctor's office and tapped a console button with a gloved finger. Nothing. "You'd think this console was a girl," she berated herself quietly. "The Dani touch—turn anyone or anything off in a five parsec radius."

"Did you say something?"

Dani spun around to find Merkit in the white EV suit. She filled it out, but extra material gathered in the woman's arms and legs. "You're done already?"

"I don't know how to put the helmet on," she said, thrusting it up.

Dani reached for it but let her hand drop again. "Do you want me to help you?"

She nodded regally with a faint smile. Dani clomped over, taking the helmet gingerly from her grasp.

Dani fastened the helmet adjusted the forearm controls and switched the lights on. Then she reapplied her own and spoke into it. "Let's go," she said with authority.

"Where to?"

"Cargo Bay Two."

"What's there?"

"My friends."

Merkit stopped, the bang of her boots on the metal floor ceasing.

Dani's entire body slowly turned to look at the woman. "Why did you stop?"

"Because! It's not a time for friends! It's a time to locate my father, or Grizier!"

"Oh? What do they know about Voyager?"

"What about the Captain?"

"I don't think there are any adults here, Merkit."

"How do you know?"

Dani looked away. She knew because she'd received telemetry from her Borg implant. Green text had burned across her visual centers. She knew a lot, if the text was to be believed. "I've just traveled through two decks and seen no one."

"That explains nothing," Merkit said imperiously. "You are a child and perhaps—"

"Look, princess. I can't waste our energy looking for them. My friends—all children—are the only ones present on this ship."

"I'm an adult, Dani. How do you explain me?"

Dani's face flushed. "I don't know," she replied.

"You don't know?"

"We're wasting time."

"I'm the adult here. I think we should go find my father or at least the Captain."

Dani shook her head. "No, Merkit."

Dani guessed by the incendiary glare she got from the princess that she rarely heard that phrase. Well, tough. "I know what I'm doing!"

"You're a child—a devious child, but a child nonetheless."

"Hey! You never asked me how old I was!"

"You never told me you were so young!"

"I thought we were the same age!"

"You tower over me! How could you possibly think that?"

Dani inhaled deeply, the helmet fogged slightly from her exhalation. "This is stupid. I'm not going to argue with you now. We both made mistakes—"

"Yes, very big mistakes," Merkit snapped.

Dani's face hardened. "I know what I have to do here, Merkit." At the princess' questioning gaze, Dani thought briefly about how to convince her. Decision made. "I get messages about the future…."

The look of alarm on Merkit's beautiful face stopped her telling her anymore. "Are you crazy?" the princess whispered, taking a loud, clomping step back.

Dani closed her eyes briefly, moaning ever so softly. "Look, I'm going to Cargo Bay Two. You can stay or you can follow. It's up to you."

Dani turned and disappeared around the corridor, leaving Merkit in dark sickbay. She sighed relief when she heard a double-time of clomping behind her.

"If anything happens to me, I can assure you that you will be punished," Merkit hissed. "Severely."

Dani kept walking but rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, I think my sentence has already started, princess."

=/\=

It was nearly twenty hundred hours, but the yellow sky looked like late evening. Under the dappled shade of the jungle, the shadows were deeper and the crackling fire illuminated the makeshift camp that Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine had made.

Over the popping and crackling fire cooked white meat hanging from prong sticks. Seven touched some of the meat with her Borg appendage. "I believe your dinner is complete." She leaned over and took some strips of meat, placing it into a bamboo like cup.

She nodded for Kathryn to sit, and then offered her spouse two bamboo cups. One filled with water from the tree canopy and the other with cooked snake.

"Thank you, Seven," the Captain murmured as she gratefully accepted the cups. She took a sip of the water and murmured her appreciation. "I think I like the water much better without the smack of my sweat."

Seven served herself as the Captain gingerly positioned a chunk of meat between her fingers, sniffing it.

"It smells good," she whispered.

"Thank you," Seven said sardonically, earning a faintly curled lip of the Captain.

"Do you think it's done?"

Seven sighed and reached out a tore a good piece of it off of a prong. She popped it into her mouth. She chewed laboriously and swallowed. "It is edible and parasite free," she declared, as she stood with her own portion.

"You're piece was parasite free but I doubt you could certify the entire buffet here," Janeway pointed out.

"Whatever parasites that infest your intestines may be removed when we are reunited with Voyager."

The Captain's face contorted. "That's not very comforting."

"It was not meant to comfort. It was a statement of fact."

Janeway slowly brought the hunk of meat to her lips. Once it was in her mouth, she closed her eyes and hummed through several chews. "Darling, this is divine."

"I'm gratified you are pleased."

Janeway patted the ground next to her and Seven took up the assigned seat, placing them shoulder to shoulder. "Seven," the Captain said around a mouthful of snake. "I'm sorry."

Seven froze, her hand midway to her mouth. She turned slightly to face the Captain. "For what do you apologize?"

"I've been a stubborn old fool."

"In what way?"

"My hair, trying to show you I could get us water, too…" Janeway gestured with her thumb behind her. "Have you ever considered our age difference? I am twelve years older than you."

"Twelve years, seven months, three weeks, five days, ten hours, twenty-two minutes and forty-two seconds, if Starfleet records can be trusted to be that precise."

Janeway lifted her brows and tasted her own mouth for a moment. "I'm aging, Seven."

Seven furrowed her brows. "We all age, Kathryn. Since we married, I am seven years older, as you are."

Janeway let a finger trail her wife's jaw line. "But you, my darling, do not look a day over twenty-eight. Meanwhile, I look exactly my age or more."

"It is my Borg physiology."

"I know that's a part of it, for you. But me, my memory isn't what it once was. I'm slower—you have noticed that you've won our last two velocity matches, haven't you?"

Seven arched a brow. "I surmised that I was improving, not that you were degenerating."

"Well, thank you for that. But the fact remains, we are stranded in the Delta Quadrant. The long-term population estimates that I commissioned show a bleak future—"

"What sort of bleak future?"

"We can barely sustain our current population on the ship, yet it is far too small to outfit the ship with a large enough crew. The ship is ready to fall apart at any second."

Janeway took Seven's forearm in her hand, rubbing her thumb along the strong bones. "I am aging much faster than you, Seven. It is very likely I will die before you."

Seven's face darkened. "I had not—I had not considered the possibility."

The forlorn expression overpowering her wife caused a pang deep in Janeway's heart. She reached over, cupping the back of Seven's head and brought their foreheads together. "I'm sorry, Seven," she whispered with a crack. "This is why I didn't want to share this…this darkness."

Seven let her water and food cup fall as she pulled Janeway close. "I am your wife, Kathryn Janeway. I promised to share everything with you, including your burdens. It was not right for you to keep this pain from me."

Tears spilled out from stormy gray eyes. "Oh, Seven, I'm sorry."

Their lips met in mutual comfort, tasting the salt of tears.

They both heard the snap of limbs too late. When they looked up, there was a phaser barrel pointed at their heads. Holding it was a suited Malon, with dark circled eyes and a wide nose. His head was covered in large pustules, some leaking white fluid.

"How touching," he rumbled. "But you've never considered that you both could die!" His callous laugh echoed through the jungle.


	5. Consequences

**A/N: Thank you for all the kind reviews. I hope you enjoy this installment.**

"**Living Daylights"****  
Chapter 4: Consequences**

Captain Janeway glared at the Malon who was ramming the business end of a phaser into her chiseled cheek. It wasn't the weapon so much that inflamed her but the mockery and the accusation.

"Sorry to interrupt a Captain's privilege," he said with a leer.

Janeway glowered, despite the immediate threat.

"Or is it the other way around?" said another voice was muffled from behind the thick vegetation. The first Malon's bellowing laughter sputtered into a coughing fit.

The Captain's face hardened when she saw the other armed Malon kick a handcuffed Neelix from behind. Her Talaxian crewmember fell forward, pulling along five others to whom he was tied. Neelix fell to the ground, while four other Talaxians and a beleaguered King Conail were yanked down by the short rope.

Neelix pushed himself up to his knees, his features awash with relief at the sight of Captain Janeway, while blood trickled down his temple from a gash on his spotted head.

She was about to reach down and help him up, when the phaser barrel found her cheek again. "Don't touch my property," the second Malon said.

Janeway firmed her jaw. "He's hurt and I'm just helping him." She and Seven defied their captors by helping Neelix and then the others stand on their own.

The Malon growled and slammed his phaser against Janeway's temple, sending her sprawling back. "Don't do that again!"

Janeway stumbled backward, steadied by Seven's arm. She touched her head, seeing the blood and feeling it seep down her face. She patted Seven's arm and stood up on her own, defiance in her eyes. "Are you all right, Mr. Neelix?" she asked while still holding the gaze of the second Malon.

He smiled, revealing a few missing teeth. "I am now," he whispered.

"I am not!" King Conail wailed.

Janeway quickly scanned him. King Conail had been stripped of his finery and left in white undershirt and shorts. His skin was burned, as if from an inferno and his lips were cracked. The other Talaxians—three men and a woman—were dressed in tatters. Their spots were nearly eclipsed by the angry red of their skin. Their eyes were rimmed in red and their cheeks hollow. _This is what they plan for us—whatever that may be, _Janeway noted.

She dabbed at her wound with the sleeve of her tunic as she turned to face the Malons. "I can see that these people are all in need of medical attention. I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the U.S.S. Voyager and—"

"Voyager?" The first Malon wiped some white oozing pus from his forehead. "I knew I should have shot you on sight. You're the reason…" He brandished a shaky phaser at her. "You're the reason I'm even here in this gods-forsaken hell hole."

Captain Janeway raised her arms. "We're here against our will, too. Were you kidnapped as well?"

The younger Malon laughed maniacally. "We've all been snatched, Captain! Didn't you see the graveyard of ships on approach?"

"Our sensors registered the debris field," Seven said, stepping close behind to her Captain.

The older Malon again wiped his forehead with the cuff of his sleeve. "How Voyager could defeat Emck with sensors that can't even distinguish the guts of a thousand ships is beyond me!"

"Mr. Emck?" Janeway asked with a dangerous drop in her voice. Her memories were flooded with a Malon freighter dumping theta radiation illegally.

"He's my brother. You destroyed the wormholes through the void and nearly bankrupted us."

"You were poisoning an entirely new region of space that was inhabited by _peaceful_ people."

"Peaceful? They were sabotaging our ships!"

Flutters of wings were heard at the sound of the man's shouts, bringing Janeway back from her indignation. "That was nearly eight years ago," she said.

"I know! We've been trying to find shortcuts ever since."

"Which brought you to this region of space," Seven offered.

"Yes," the man spat. "It brought us here and we were taken from my ship and we've been trapped ever since."

"How long?" Janeway asked.

"Six months, maybe more."

"What is your name?"

The Malon studied the Captain, his eyes narrowing. He tracked the phaser barrel around her face, landing finally on her nose.

Seven pitched forward, but Janeway grabbed her wrist.

The Malon's phaser-wielding hand began to shake as it jerked toward the Borg. "What are you?"

"I am Borg," she said in her most menacing voice.

"Don't get any closer! I'll incinerate you where you stand."

"You will fail," she said. "You are species 2758. Malon. You and your unremarkable civilization were deemed unworthy of assimilation."

"That may be, but now _I've_ assimilated _you_. Maybe you have all that Borg protection…." he stuttered. He pointed at Janeway's face. "But your girlfriend here doesn't."

Seven lifted a brow and she retreated a half step. Janeway felt her Borg arm relax in her grip. She patted the cold skin she found there in acknowledgement.

"I am Controller Orha and I am your new master and if you don't like it, I can drop you right here."

The younger Malon began to whine. "But they don't have any iron ore! What good are they?"

"They can still work the mines, you fool." Orha extended his weapon at Janeway and Seven. "Better them than us."

=/\=

Dani and Merkit stepped into Cargo Bay Two, their commlinks instantaneously syncing with the others in proximity. "Dani!" her sister said, pushing her way forward. "You're okay?"

Dani nodded her chin at her alarmed sister as if they were about to sit down to dinner with their parents. "Yeah, and you?"

"I've been better, but I'm glad you're safe." Shannon flashed a genuine smile at her older sister. Dani realized with uncanny clarity that she was the spitting image of their Borg mother, if she ever indulged in toothy grins, which she didn't.

"Me, too," Dani said.

Shannon turned, her pony tail whipping inside the EV suit helmet. "That's all of us," she said. "And the heir, too."

"Forty-nine," Mezoti stated in even tones. She was standing beside Naomi Wildman on an anti-grav sled.

"All students are accounted for, now that you're here," Naomi replied, as she made a note on a padd. "Okay, here is the plan."

Dani leaned back on a storage unit, trying to cross her arms in the EV suit. Failing to find a comfortable position, she dropped them as she listened to Naomi Wildman tell the other children that they were going to hunker down until the adults returned.

Even as Naomi spoke, the green text began to zip across her visual center. _"Naomi's plan is a mistake. You must tell them."_

Dani grimaced and shifted around, determined to ignore the green text. She'd never defied its "recommendations" but she'd never really wanted to before. But there was no way in Sto-vo-kor that she was going to take command. Never.

"_Dani, if you do not get the ship operational, all of you will die," _the text said in all capitals.

"Bullshit," she whispered, nearly inaudible.

"_Not bullshit"_ the text read.

She blinked several times. Never had the text ever responded directly to a statement of hers. It was as if the words were remote messages sent from someone nearby who could hear her. This was unusual, and she straightened herself, even as Naomi was passing out assignments to find Starfleet tents with environmental controls to keep them warm, even as the coldness of space was seeping away the last bit of heat from the lifeless ship.

Dani searched the cargo bay, looking for some hidden spy or crewmember who could be responsible for these damned messages. The shadows held no secrets.

"_You will take four others with you to the Delta Flyer."_

"Why would I do that?"

To her surprise, the green text responded: _"Because you are going to need deuterium to reinitialize the warp core."_

"Naomi can find deuterium."

"_She believes the crew will rescue you."_

The ghost of the last words gave a green cast to the scene in front of her. Everyone seemed to completely acquiesce to Naomi's plan to shelter in place. Dani bit down hard on her molars, trying to resist the urge to get involved. But the need to prove the source of these messages wrong overwhelmed her, especially now when she believed she could bargain for the identity of this person.

"Naomi?" Dani said after clearing her throat. "What about the Delta Flyer?"

"What about it?" she asked.

"Maybe we can use it to find the Captain and crew."

Mezoti had been speaking with Azan and she turned to regard her. The curiosity in her expression was intense.

Naomi didn't even bother to consider the option. "No, in this type of situation, Starfleet regulations say we should await instructions from the Captain or the senior most officer."

"Maybe we could at least work to bring the warp engines back online," Dani offered. "That way, when the Captain returns, we can get the hell out of here faster than otherwise."

Naomi regarded her for a moment. "Eridani, I appreciate your willingness to get involved, but we just don't have the expertise or the manpower."

"_Naomi is not the leader you are, Dani." _Dani was surprised. It was like whoever was sending her the messages could hear the entire conversation. Again she glanced around the cargo bay and again she found nothing.

"Why are you letting that girl speak to you that way, Dani?"

Dani turned to glare at Merkit. "What are you talking about?"

"You should put her in her place," Merkit said with haughty Imperial confidence.

"Merkit, just—"

"Your plan to find the shuttle was more reasonable and—"

"Merkit! Shut up!" Dani knew she was projecting her irritation about the messages onto Merkit, but she couldn't help it, especially since they were saying the same thing.

Dani tapped something into her forearm controls, severing her communications with the rest of the team.

"_You must assume the role of the captain."_

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"_Who the fuck do you think I am?"_

Dani's face burned red. "An asshole, that's who."

"_Maybe so, but you must comply."_

"Are you Borg?"

"_No more Borg than you."_

"That's no answer."

"_But it is."_

"If you know everything, why can't you change it?"

"_Because I can't _change _anything. I am merely telling you the path to take."_

"I don't want to be a captain! Hell, I don't even want to be in Starfleet."

"_Irrelevant. You must be the captain. Your time is now."_

Dani clenched her eyes shut and tried to block out the text, but it kept repeating the last two sentences. "I will defy you."

"_You are welcome to try, but in the end, your ordered steps are inescapable."_

"Tell me who you are."

"_You'll know who I am when you accept your greatest loss."_

"Why are you playing games with me?"

"_I'm not. You will see when you are meant to see."_

"Fuck you."

"_You're wasting energy here."_

"Why are you talking to me now?"

"_It seems like we're talking, but we're not."_

"More games? You're trying to mind-fuck me!"

"_It's because you're old enough now."_

"I don't like your answers."

"_You don't have to like them. You just have to comply." _

Dani glared out, rage seething inside.

"_You're running out of time. You must rendezvous with the Delta Flyer, acquire Galen von Behring and send two of your crew to retrieve deuterium."_

"Where can we find deuterium out here? Cap couldn't find any before!"

"_Trust yourself."_

"Just tell me, damn you!"

Then the text started repeating itself: _"You must be the captain. Your time is now."_

Dani rolled her eyes and angrily punched the forearm controls. Most of the children were disbursing, going on one of Naomi's fool errands.

"Naomi, we need to get to the Delta Flyer," Dani said as she clomped forward. She could hear Merkit step heavily beside her.

Shannon and Mezoti, on opposite sides of the cargo bay, each stopped to look at her.

Naomi shook her head. "This isn't a holodeck exercise, Dani. You can't just delete some Borg drones. This is real life."

"I know that, Naomi!" Dani said with a hint of irritation. "But the Delta Flyer is important."

Naomi stared at Dani for a moment before responding.

"Well?" Dani finally asked.

"I was waiting for you to start snickering or something."

Dani's lips went thin. "Believe it or not, Naomi, I know the difference between a holodeck simulation and reality."

Naomi nodded slowly. "Fine. Then you'll know I'm in charge and I'm ordering you to the nursery. Mezoti said the babies are crying like misaligned plasma relays."

=/\=

Janeway's and Seven's hands were bound tightly with a coarse rope that burned. They were secured to the other prisoners in a line from waist to ankles, forcing them to shuffle their feet rapidly. It made the forced march through the dense forest slow and arduous, especially since the Malons forced them all to carry basket of heavy black ore.

During rest times, Janeway and Seven had managed to find out how Neelix and King Conail had been rescued from a wild animal attack by the Talaxians: Captain Herbix, his wife Aderia and two crewmembers Tener and Roff.

Neelix had materialized on the moon at the jungle's edge, where high in a branch, a tiger-like cat loomed. The veeber caw, a name given by Captain Herbix, had a green coat with sabre-like teeth and drool that could burn humanoid flesh. Its growl was low, nearly inaudible to Neelix.

"I was frozen, Captain," he said. "If I moved, it would pounce. Its muscles were taut and I knew I'd never be able to outrun it."

King Conail, who had been robbed by thugs, stumbled onto the scene and was quickly swallowed into the danger.

But Herbix and his crew had dealt with the strange beasts before. One had stalked them and killed another crewmember before they'd learned to carry a torch with them. "Fire," he said. "It'll strike the fear of death into those creatures."

Janeway thanked Herbix for saving her crewmember and King Conail before the Orha shoved them from behind, making them pitch forward and stumble to the ground.

"Now shut the fuck up! And pick up that ore! I better not see even one crumb left where you clumsy oafs spilled it."

Janeway's filthy hands clutched at the sharp-edged rocks, cutting herself once or twice as she collected her share. "Where did you say we were headed?"

Orha stopped, squinting into the ferny depths of the trees around. "We rendezvous for supplies first."

She wrinkled her eyebrows. "Rendezvous? Do you have allies?"

Orha's smile was vicious. "Yeah, that's it. Now shut the fuck up and keep working!"

King Conail fell back from his haunches, dragging Neelix down with him and pulling the others to close. "I can't go on!"

The younger Malon kicked the King, who fell to the side. "You will go on," he sneered. "Or you will die here." He raised the phaser to his head. His lacerated finger jumped on the trigger.

Janeway pushed herself up with Seven's help. "Let's help him," she said.

The others close to him, helped Conail gather his share of the oar. They picked him up and handed him his basket.

"There is no point in going on," the King wailed. "My daughter—my heir—is no more and I will die here!"

"Not so," Janeway whispered. "We'll find them."

"Now Captain," Controller Orha said, lifting a booted foot on a fallen tree. "Don't give the man false hopes."

She firmed her jaw. "They're not false."

He threw his head back and laughed, but it turned into a coughing fit. Then he spit into a rag. "If we miss the rendezvous ship, I'll slice him open and leave him for the veeber caws."

The King trembled, recoiling away. The memory of the snarling, spotted cats that were as large as two men was seared into his memory. He could even feel their saliva burning his flesh.

Janeway patted the man, causing him to jump back to the present. "Let's go, Majesty. It's not too far, right, Controller Orha?"

Orha looked up, as did Janeway. All she could see was the blue flames of the sun beginning to fill the sky. The gas giant planet with its bands of orange and gray clouds filled the rest of the sky. A red spot churned angrily on its southern hemisphere. Thick fog was starting to descend on the them, making the sweltering heat of the jungle floor seem impossibly stickier.

Sweat trickled down her face. She could feel accumulation of sweat under her arms.

Mysteriously, Orha said: "Not far, no."

As they finally stepped into a large clearing, they could barely see landing padds through the thick fog. But they were still able to make out crude platforms made of rocks and gravel. There were dozens in a semicircle and Janeway could see many other aliens, in the same rag tag shape as their company appeared to be. Some held prisoners and some were clearly tribal or family units. But they all eyed each other suspiciously.

"Seven," Janeway whispered. "What do you make of this? And do you see anyone we know?"

Seven, with her Borg-enhanced vision, scanned the horizon. "I see no one, Captain."

She pursed her lips. "Damn."

"Nor can I make much of the situation without my tricorder. However, my Borg telemetry suggests that the planet is heating up quickly and moisture is growing in the air."

Janeway looked up, seeing eddies of clouds. That's when they saw lightning flashes and then they heard the thunder.

"They come," Captain Herbix whispered urgently.

Descending through the clouds were great chrome spheres, whose diameter was twice the size of the Delta Flyer. They possessed neither landing lights nor any portholes. Just above the landing padd, they hovered while an eerie electromagnetic surge raised the hairs on the Captain's neck and the low murmuring sound forced Seven to cover an ear with her hand.

"Are you all right?"

"The sound they emit is…disturbing," Seven replied.

Landing struts shot out from the bottom of the orb. Immediately, the orb expanded into a donut around itself. A corridor jutted out and at its center a diaphragm opened to reveal a white smoke that billowed out.

Herbix, Aderia and his crew covered their noses. Janeway sniffed the air. "It's a sweet smell," she said.

"It's sickening," Herbix spat. "Because we know what looms inside there."

Seven lifted her head, discreetly sampling the air. "Dichloromethane," she announced. "Do not inhale too deeply. It will intoxicate you, Captain."

She nodded and lifted her sweater collar to cover her nose and mouth.

Controller Orha got into an argument with a group that arrived later, finally outgunning them. He and the younger Malon, called Mho, raised their phasers and ordered his slaves to carry in the baskets.

Inside, the white gas filled the corridor. Janeway nearly fell over from dizziness, except that Seven caught her. "Try not to breathe it," Seven ordered.

"A difficult order to comply with," Janeway said lightly. She leaned against the chrome bulkhead and then removed her hand. Frost had already formed there, her hand leaving an impression of condensation around the frost.

"It may be the creatures' atmosphere. My internal readings show the ambient temperature dropping."

Orha came up quickly behind Seven, not seeing her in the mist. He shoved off of her. Though she was a solid obstacle, the large Malon's strength was enough to propel her forward where she slammed into a large glass window at the end of the short corridor.

"Seven!" Janeway shouted, even as she fell forward because of the ropes that bound the prisoners.

"I am undamaged, Captain," Seven said.

Behind the window, the white smoke billowed furiously. Some seeped from the poor seal at the ground.

"Lay the ore down by the window," Orha commanded. "Now!"

Through the haze, silhouettes of bobbing creatures could be seen. Their bodies were humanoid, with a small lump at the top of a squat torso. The places for the eyes were dark spots with no nostrils or other breathing organs discernible. Its arms were vague, undefined appendages with rounded stumps for hands.

It had no legs, but long tendrils hung from under the torso as it hovered in the atmosphere. As they drew closer, Neelix gasped.

"I can see through them, Captain," he wailed.

"There's a beating heart," Seven said, as if she were in a lab documenting a specimen.

"Green blood flowing through vein-like channels," Janeway noted.

Seven's scrutiny returned to their "face." "I do not believe they possess sight," she said.

"Perhaps they have echolocation," Janeway replied.

"Now shut it!" Orha roared. "None of that. We're here for one purpose."

Janeway and Seven noted that Orha's loud threats produced no effect in the creatures, not that they could read the blank expressions.

"The orange gas giant planet must be their home," Janeway mused. "I wonder if they know their sun is dying."

"Perhaps they do not," Seven replied. "If they are native to the giant planet, it is likely they live in darkness…"

"Which is why they never evolved sight," Janeway mused. "And they want iron ore. But why?"

The Captain watched carefully as Orha tapped out a beat on the window pane. Nearly instantly, the ore in the baskets dematerialized and was replaced by chunks of ice and frozen black strips.

Orha counted the bounty and grunted. "Barely enough for one person, those greedy bastards," he hissed.

While Orha groused about his take, the Captain tapped out the same rhythm, drawing the creatures to face her. "I am Captain Janeway and you've taken us from our ship. We would like to return."

The creatures made no gestures but their bodies became cloudy.

"We can help you escape or gather more ore from our ship," she offered again.

"They can't hear you, Captain," Orha said. "I've shouted until I was blue in the face. I detonated a charge in here. The slimy bastards are deaf, too."

Janeway made hand gestures , intergalactic signs of peace and friendship.

"Their blind buggers, too," Orha said.

"What do they want?" Janeway asked.

"Are you daft, woman? They want ore!"

She looked down at the meager rewards Orha had earned. "But why?"

"Who the fuck cares?" the younger Malon hissed. "But maybe they understand this!"

He pulled out his phaser to level it at the one of the creature's eyespots. Orha followed suit. "What are you doing, Mho?"

"Maybe we can—"

Thunder echoed out, reverberating in the small chamber. Then an orange arc of electromagnetic energy shot out from the fog that enveloped them. It crackled and forked, striking the ground and the young Malon, who was instantly vaporized.

Orha had enough time to realize his tactical error before his body was evaporated into the white mist. Both of their phasers fell where they stood.

Janeway turned in alarm at the creatures. "We were their prisoners and we mean you no harm," she said.

The creatures stood there, still and unchanging.

"I believe their speech is in a higher frequency than can be perceived by the human ear," Seven, retrieving the tricorder from the spot where Mho had stood. "They are barely within my range." She touched an ear, grimacing slightly at the sounds.

"What are they saying?"

"I do not know. It is a melodious language and it remains untranslated."

"If you say something, do they acknowledge it?"

Seven repeated some of Janeway's message. "They are silent," she said.

They watched as the creatures disappeared into the mist.

"That's a signal that our business is concluded," Herbix warned.

"What if we don't leave?"

"I—I—I don't know," Herbix said. "But others may come in by force. Take our meager rations. Or the creatures could just kill us as they did the two."

Janeway turned to see the footprints of the first Malon. "Did the creatures kill them or was it merely a discharge of this ionized gas?"

Seven scanned the vicinity with her tricorder. "That is a plausible hypothesis, but one for which I require more data."

Janeway put her fists on her hips. "What if we don't bring them more ore," Janeway mused, still studying the strangest creatures she'd ever seen.

"We'll starve," Herbix said, with a bitter edge.

"We starve or we burn," Janeway said of the moon's impending collision course with the blue sun.

"Or we are torn apart by tidal forces," Seven pointed out helpfully as she freed her wrists of the rope.

Janeway gave her a crooked smile, offering her own tied hands to the Borg. "I don't like any of those options."

Seven untied the rope and tossed the end to Neelix, who began to work on his own knots.

"Is there another alternative, Captain?"

"Maybe," she said. "But we need another audience and that means we need more ore." The Captain tucked one of the discarded phasers in the waist of her trousers and offered the other to Seven.

=/\=

"You know what you are?" Shannon shouted at her sister. The volume distorted through the EV suits comm signals. "You're a Klingon death dirge."

Dani frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Your sister is insolent," Merkit said, looking down her nose at Shannon.

Dani flashed an irritated look that Merkit either ignored or didn't understand.

"If it's not your idea, you have to drone on about why it won't work!" Shannon explained.

"That's not true!"

"It's no time for your games," Shannon growled.

Dani's eyes rimmed red but not a tear fell as she faced the combined fury of her sister, Mezoti and Naomi, while others shuffled around the cargo bay setting up a makeshift camp.

"Don't you think I know this isn't a game?"

Shannon had always been unafraid to meet Dani toe-to-toe. She was the Captain's daughter, too, after all. "Then why do you have to challenge Naomi in front of everyone?"

Naomi nodded while Mezoti tipped her head, waiting for an answer.

Dani looked around. Why did she have to be the one to fix the damn timeline? And how was she supposed to do it if the other kids didn't just fall in line behind her? She gritted her teeth at the thought of telling them about her prescient messages. They wouldn't believe her. Merkit didn't believe her. Naomi would probably just love to throw her in the brig.

"Look, guys," she finally said, opting for a soft, soothing voice she'd seen Cappie use with devastating success. "We can't go on believing that Cap is going to come back. We have to meet her halfway. All I'm suggesting is that we check to see if the Delta Flyer has power—"

"That is possible," Mezoti interjected. "Since it would not have been drained by the mysterious tractor beam."

Dani gestured to Mezoti. "See that? It's a possibility. At the very least, we can get some heat and water."

The razor sharp stare between Naomi and Dani would have decapitated lesser creatures. But years of animosity had almost made it second nature. "I will go," Naomi barked.

It was such an uncharacteristic response that Dani drew back slightly. She felt Merkit push her from behind, thinking it was a test of wills. Dani didn't see it that way so she pushed back. Naomi didn't trust her and Dani didn't blame her, not after everything they'd been through together.

Dani sorted through a large laundry list of responses and decided on the most beneficial one she could think of. "Good," she said. "But Miral goes, too—in case there are engineering issues."

Naomi reluctantly nodded once.

"And Mezoti," Dani added hastily. She mentally counted while she waited for Naomi's objection. Four. That the prescribed number.

"Then who is going to Engineering?" Naomi asked.

Dani knew they were out of deuterium from the messages. But there was no way she was going to raise that concern. She'd rather stab her eyes with Klingon painsticks than tell anyone else about the messages or about how she'd ruined their chances for trading with the Vashkoi.

So instead, she added: "They can go to Engineering afterward."

Naomi narrowed her eyes slightly and then looked at Mezoti. "What do you think?"

Mezoti lifted a brow. "It sounds reasonable."

She nodded once. "Someone has to be," Dani whispered.

Naomi's face darkened while Shannon shoved her as she passed. "I need you before you go," Shannon said.

Dani waved everyone on and stood in front of her sister, the top of whose head barely reached her chin. "What's up, Shay?"

"Why did you say that to Naomi?"

Dani seemed confused. "Say what?"

Shannon's voice switched into a falsetto mockery. " 'Someone has to be,'" she mimicked.

Dani rolled her eyes. "That wasn't for Naomi," Dani said.

"Who was it for? Me? Mezoti?"

Dani looked away. _For the lunatic in my head, _she thought.

=/\=

"I estimate we have three hours before sunrise," Seven said, trying to search the sky as well.

"You mean, the sun has set?" Neelix inquired. He looked up at the dappled sky and blinked against the light. "It's getting hotter and brighter. I thought it was lunchtime." He patted his belly playfully. "And I was hoping for a nice, cool bowl of Ibilian potato soup. Mmm-mmm."

The other Talaxian did not seem preoccupied by food, as he slowly chewed on something brown. "On the other hand," Herbix said, lifting his face. "It would be nice to see another day."

The Talaxian woman, the only one among them, leaned toward him, patting Herbix who was thinner than Neelix with hair and whiskers a shade darker. "That would mean we've survived another day," she said quietly.

Janeway looked over at the other Talaxians. "How long have you been stranded?"

"We were captured little more than a week ago," Herbix said.

Herbix told them of his crew's experience, very similar to Voyager's after they arrived.

"So you came to this sector looking for iron?" she asked thoughtfully. "You weren't pushed here by beings of light?"

Herbix wrinkled his brow. "No, we never saw any beings. Our instruments must have given us a false reading. Once we realized this sector was nearly devoid of even the most basic elements and ores, we tried to turn back. But we were caught in some powerful tractor beam. Our ship was seized and when we woke up, we were all scattered on the surface. I've still not recovered the rest of my crew. We numbered fifty in all."

Janeway leaned forward. "Did you have any children among your crew?"

Herbix shared a meaningful look with his wife. "Yes, we had twelve children, two were ours."

Aderia leaned in closer toward the Captain. "We've recovered none of them, Captain," she said ominously.

"Then where are they?"

She looked up. "Still on our ship," she replied. "It's the only explanation."

"What leads you to say that?" Seven asked.

"None of the races we've encountered have children with them," she replied.

"Furthermore," he said. "The creatures don't need them."

"There are mountains at the edge of the jungle. Those caves," he said, gesturing around them. "They're mines, as Orha has said. But they hold the only ore in this system. We were going to rendezvous there to try to find the rest of my crew when Orha captured us."

"Slave labor," Janeway replied. "The creatures hijack unsuspecting ships and then divide us so we can't fight back."

"These creatures clearly have some advanced technology," Seven said. "Why would they not simply take the ore with their powerful transporter?"

Herbix shrugged as he padded his uniform of gray. When he'd located something, he pulled it out and twisted a jar open. "I'm starving," he replied.

Janeway, Seven and Neelix watched as he took a glob of viscous black material and stuffed it between his cheek and gum. "Hmm," he said. "That better."

"Is that food?" Janeway asked, her own stomach growling.

Herbix frowned. "I'm sorry. You are hungry as well. This is actually my own little concoction."

"What is it?" Neelix asked.

"You really don't want to know what my husband puts in it," Aderia warned. "But it reduces our hunger."

Herbix offered it to the Captain. "Try it."

She hesitated but her hunger was too great to turn it down. She pinched some between her cheek and gum, creating a bulge between her lips and chin. Janeway closed her eyes to the rush of flavors. It was nutty with a hint of cinnamon and then she felt it. "It has caffeine," she murmured through a grateful hum.

"Probably," Herbix said. "It does have the effect of reducing our need for sleep."

She closed her eyes and submerged in the flavor. "Damn, it's good." She opened her eyes to the disapproving stare of her spouse. "Seven, would you like some?" A bit of brown spittle dripped from Janeway's mouth and she wiped it with back of her hand.

"I do not require an addiction at this time," Seven said, with a reproving glint in her eye.

Janeway shrugged, leaning back against the log. She smiled as she chewed. "I think I'd give my favorite Da Vinci reproduction for a mug of coffee, even if the devil himself served it."

A bright light flashed and a gentle breeze whipped through the forest. Captain Janeway snapped her eyes open at the sound of a familiar and intrusive voice.

"Kathy! It's been a while!" The tall god-like man dressed in a Starfleet Command red uniform opened his arms for a hug.

Janeway's response was more a curse than recognition. "Q!"


	6. Old Friends and Lovers

A/N: Surprise, surprise. Another chapter so soon. Happy St. Patrick's Day. And thanks for the reviews on the last one so far. I really hope you like this one, too!

**Living Daylights**

**Chapter 5: Old Friends and Lovers**

Q took Captain Janeway in his arms and attempted to give her a tender embrace. But she pushed back on his chest. Just as he was about to kiss her mouth, Janeway turned her head to see an alarmed and agitated Borg.

"It's Q," she whispered, even as Q kissed the side of her nose.

Q pulled back, holding Janeway by her biceps. He studied the look shared by the two women. "Of course, it's Q! Were you expecting someone else?"

"What are you doing here?" Janeway asked, struggling to free herself of his grip.

"I could ask the same of you. I'd heard gossip that Voyager was in my neighborhood—" He looked disdainfully around. "Albeit a less desirable locale that the Continuum—and well, I thought I'd stop by and watch you wallow in all that repugnant humanity of yours."

"What do you mean your neighborhood?" Seven asked, stepping forward.

He gestured idly to the sky. "Oh you know, the abode of the Q—that carnival of perpetual merriment, debauchery and balloons! It's right over there. Second star on the right."

Seven grabbed her hands behind her back and began to slowly circle him in inspection. Q yawned loudly. "Isn't this drone a long way from the Collective?"

Neelix came to Seven's defense. "She's a member of the Voyager's crew."

Q curled a lip at the short man, eyeing his compatriots behind him. "Talaxians!" he hissed with a snap of his fingers. Neelix and the other Talaxians disappeared. "They're like termites, burrowing their way into the affections of higher order creatures."

Seven looked up, puzzled by Q's analogy. "Termites are considered to be pests," she said seriously.

"Really?" he asked sarcastically.

"Bring them back, Q!" Janeway demanded.

"What have you done with them," King Conail shrieked.

"Who are you?" Q asked, suddenly spying the man's state of undress.

"I am Conail the Forty-Second King of the Vashkoi Empire," he said, lifting a be-ringed hand to tug regally on his undershirt.

"Hmm," Q scoffed. "I think trumpets and some clothes to cover those unsightly boils might help you to be more regal—or even just less vagrant. That would be good."

"How dare you! I could—"

Q waved his hand, and King Conail disappeared.

"Q!" Janeway objected again.

"Oh, please, Kathy! You can't tell me you'll miss that bore."

"Perhaps they are not the bores," Seven said with a sharp edge.

Q turned back to peruse the Borg's figure. "So, you're a crewmember," he said indolently. "Uhn, and I'll bet you're the life of the party with your charming assimilation tubules and…" He reached out to drag the backs of fingers along the tips of her prominent breasts. "These rather festive party favors!"

Seven fiercely swatted his hand away. "No one is allowed to touch me intimately without my consent."

His eyes grew wide and he turned to give the Captain a look of astonished admiration. "I'm stunned. She has sexual self-awareness, but you're still a drone," he accused.

With that, Q dismissed her with a turn of his heels. Q was careful to make sure Janeway saw the leer he offered her. "I still wonder about you, Kathy—about us."

"Q!" the Captain said with the whip of command. "This is neither the time nor the place for these games."

He snapped his fingers and the two found themselves standing on a plush red carpet in a darkly lit bedroom. The bed was covered in a fine brocade coverlet of the richest burgundy and gold. A fire crackled by a dinner table festooned with red roses, a chianti bottle and two place settings.

Q was dressed in a white cravat and black silk robe embroidered in red hearts while the Captain was in a slinky and sheer negligee that rode to the top of her knees.

He took her in his arms. "I can give you a child. You don't even have to ask. You just have to _stop_ saying 'no,' or 'nyet' or 'Qó' or all of the above."

"Q!" Janeway said, pushing off of the man with her heels of her hands as hard as she could. "Send me back!"

"Don't you mean take _us_ back?"

"I meant what I said."

His lower lip pouted but he snapped his fingers and they rematerialized back in the jungles of the distant moon. Seven promptly opened a tricorder to scan her spouse.

"Kathy was playing hard to get," Q said. "Again."

Seven looked up from her readings. "What does he mean 'again'?"

Janeway strangled a sound of frustration in her voice. "It's nothing, Seven."

"What have we here?" Q asked as he began to circle the Borg. "A Borg drone who isn't a drone after all."

"I am an individual," she said, still intent on her readings.

"Q," Janeway interrupted. "Why don't you do something useful and reunite us with my ship?"

He crossed his arms. "Now why would I do that?"

"Because," she said with brows sharply scrawled over her eyes. "You are an advanced being with the power to do so."

"Ah, I do have the power," he admitted. "But you forget one thing: I lack the will." Q continued a perusal of Seven, who was oblivious to his attentions. "But I will do this. I've never bedded a Borg. What do you say—want to have my baby?"

Janeway stepped between the two, glaring up at Q. "I thought you had your son. He was supposed to mend the rift in the Continuum."

"Oh, he did," Q said with a bored sigh. "He was brilliant—not as brilliant as me but pretty darn close. But alas, he got married recently and—" Q crinkled his nose. "I'm feeling a little forlorn with this empty nest of mine."

With a single finger, he pushed Janeway aside to renew his study of the Borg. "So what do you say, blondie?"

"My designation is Seven of Nine and I only copulate with my spouse."

Janeway slammed her eyes shut and scratched her head. She'd hoped it wouldn't come up in conversation.

"A married Borg? It seems I've been drowning my sorrows too long. Who are you married to—wait!" He clasped his hands, steepled his index fingers and waved them around, as if he were prognosticating for water. He circled around, finally aiming at Janeway. "You not only fucked a Borg—"

"Q!" Janeway objected.

"But you married her!" Q gave Seven a second, more scrutinizing study. "I would say 'how quaint' but I'm thinking she's a little _young_ for you, Kathy, isn't she?"

Janeway's face burned red, a reaction she couldn't help. Meanwhile, Seven came to her aid. "She is the precise age I require," Seven declared. "I was attracted to her maturity and her self-possession."

"Her maturity! Ho, ho!" Q thundered, his laughter echoing in the forest.

Janeway dropped her forehead into her hand to hide the grimace.

"Furthermore, she is passionate and playful," Seven added.

"Playful, eh? But is she fertile?"

Seven was astonished by the question, encouraging Q to elaborate. "Tell me, Seven of Nine. Did the good Captain Janeway take time away from the bridge to bear _your_ child?"

The omnipotent being's expression was smug because he apparently thought he knew the answer. But the reply caught him off guard and he blinked several times trying to absorb the response.

"Yes, Kathryn and I have two subunits."

His face contorted to revulsion.

"You mean you'd screw a Borg—twice!—but not a Q?" His breath parted Janeway's hair in violent puffs. "A mere woman over an omnipotent being? A blonde rather than me—with a capital me?"

Q's puzzlement gave way to curiosity. He lifted a hand to his chin. "How did you two meet anyway? Did Q help you?"

Kathryn inhaled deeply, preparing for the omnipotent tantrum of the ages. "We helped ourselves," Janeway said, emphasizing each syllable. "It's because we love each other."

Q curled his lip in disgust and threw up his hands. "That's—that's just…stupid!"

Seven arched a brow vexingly. "On the contrary, her love for me is beyond…brilliant."

Q narrowed his eyes. "I always thought the Borg were dull clods. I can see that I was right."

"Perhaps, you are correct," Seven allowed, dropping her arms to the sides to regard Q. She watched his face brighten in triumph before lowering the boom. "Or perhaps, the Borg are closer to perfection than say the Continuum."

Q clucked his teeth. "How could you figure that?"

"Our designations," she said simply.

"Like Seven of Nine is creative," he sneered.

"My full designation is 'Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One. As opposed to…Q. The Federation has encountered 10 beings of your kind. Eighty percent named—queerly—Q." Seven allowed her gaze to wander down to the apex of his legs. "Unoriginal and quite small."

Seven's faint smirk sent the omnipotent being into a raging fit. "That's it! I'm still better than you and more powerful, too!" He grinned maniacally and snapped his fingers. There was a flash of light. "See?"

Janeway looked around, growing more alarmed when she failed to identify what had been Q-ified. Seven did not understand her spouse's apprehension. "What do you seek, Kathryn?"

Q crossed his arms over his chest and waggled his brows at the Captain.

She put her fists on her hips and lifted a confident chin. "What did you do, Q?"

"Oh, now you're trying to flirt! You can forget it! It's a little late for that!" He turned his back on the Captain.

"I had not realized omnipotent beings were so infantile," Seven said.

He turned a grimace on the tall Borg, but was interrupted in a response by the Captain.

"Seven," she whispered and then shook her head once.

"Oh, now that's subtle," he said. "I know when I'm not wanted. I'm leaving but I know you'll be calling me back. And I won't come!" He suddenly realized his double entendre was more than he wanted to say. "Pun most definitely not intended."

He snapped his fingers again, a light flashed and he was gone. Janeway again glanced about, even lifting a foot to check underneath in her search for the evidence of his mischief.

"You copulated with him," Seven accused.

Janeway mouth dropped slightly before she reigned in her chagrin. "I can't believe you could even ask me that and at a time like this!"

"It was not a question," Seven replied evenly. But the Captain could see the tension around her lovely blue eyes.

"Seven of Nine! We are stranded on a dying moon…" Janeway's prepared speech about the inappropriateness of the accusation constricted in her throat. "Oh, he surprised me in my quarters one night and asked me to bear his child."

"Ah," Seven said.

"I turned him down," she said. "That means I did not have sex with him, Seven."

Seven lifted a brow. "It is irrelevant," she replied.

Janeway stared at her wife for a long moment, wondering why in the hell she brought it up in the first place. But she knew better than to ask. Sometimes having a Borg wife was a slow, plodding lesson in patience.

"This all happened ages ago, Seven," Kathryn said with a voice schooled to a whisper. "Just after we got stranded in the Delta Quadrant."

"Before we became a couple," Seven added.

"Yes, even before you were brought on board Voyager for the first time."

"Ah, then it also predates my first copulation with Commander Chakotay."

Janeway pursed her lips. She hated to think about Seven under the man who was her best friend. "Yes, before that, too." Janeway softened her expression when she looked back at Seven. "We each had our own lives before."

"I was assimilating countless millions and you were…?"

"On duty," Janeway said with a snort, as she inspected Seven. "I don't see that he's altered you physically." Then Kathryn glimpsed a red stream along Seven's inner thigh. "Seven, what is that?"

Seven looked down. "What is what?"

"You're bleeding!"

=/\=

As Dani marched into the Shuttle Bay with four others, she wondered if the change in numbers would affect the predictions of green text.

"Look, the Delta Flyer landing lights are on," Naomi said. "It's probably operational."

The amber lights along the midsection and wingtips glowed against the cold darkness of Shuttle Bay Two.

Dani raised her arm and tapped out a command on the forearm control pad. "Janeway to Delta Flyer."

"_Captain, is that you?"_ It was the frantic voice of the EMH.

"Is this the Chief Medical or Dr. von Behring?"

"Von Behring here. Captain, you sound odd."

"It's Dani Janeway, Doctor."

"_Oh what a relief!" _

Dani, Mezoti, Miral, Naomi and Merkit stepped aboard, removing their helmets in the bright lights of the shuttle.

"Where's the Captain?" von Behring asked.

"We don't know," Dani said, as she and the others removed their helmets. She swept her gaze across the shuttle control panels. "Is the shuttle fully functional?"

"Yes, it is," he said. "I was getting flight instruction from Lt. Anderson, when something lifted her in the air and she lost consciousness."

He jumped to the controls, pressing several buttons. A display turned on and a blinking light appeared on the surface of the moon image. "It was a very sophisticated tractor beam originating here. It evidently scanned Lydia—ahem, I mean Lt. Anderson and then transported her to the surface."

Dani glanced down at the consoles, punching in more commands. Bright lights illuminated the moon's surface. "The adults are all there then, on that moon."

"Can we beam them out?" Mezoti inquired.

Dani's finger flew over the console, giving instructions so fast that only the Doctor and Mezoti were able to keep up. "There's some sort of dampening field originating here and here."

Two spherical satellites appeared on the view screen as they emitted a blanket of EM interference. "Damn," Dani whispered. "I knew it wouldn't be that easy."

"Are there no adults then, on Voyager?" Dr. von Behring asked.

"That is what we have found on our search of the ship," Mezoti added.

"Except for me," Merkit said.

"And who are you?" The Doctor waved a medical tricorder sensor over the diminutive Vashkoi.

Merkit Derevo lifted her chin in a haughty way, a small curl of her lips showed her disdain of the holographic doctor. She crossed her arms and lifted her brows expectantly at Dani.

Dani gestured with a hand and an eye roll. "Dr. Galen von Behring, this is the Vashkoi heir, Merkit Derevo."

"You are an adult?" he asked, as he reflexively scanned her and the other three girls.

"I am," she replied.

"No, you're not," he added with a snap of his medical tricorder. "Neither are the rest of you, genetically speaking."

Dani rubbed her face with her hands and sighed. "Do we really have to have this conversation now?" Merkit bristled at the tone while the others began to furrow their brows at the unknown undercurrent between the two.

"I assure you, doctor," Merkit hissed. "_I_ am an adult. A fact which is certainly not true of at least one other person here."

Von Behring looked confused. "Didn't I just say that? But the truth is _none_ of you are."

He punched up buttons and the moon image on the view screen was replaced with a DNA sample, with sections blinking.

"These are telomeres," he explained. "Repetitive sections of DNA found in all humanoid species. In essence, they are the zipper end of your DNA, without which you'd lose snippets of code with every cycle of cellular replication. The longer the telomeres in your DNA, the younger you are. All of your telomeres are long chains. Ergo…"

"Then do the telomeres control aging?" Naomi asked.

"Astute question, Miss Wildman," he said, patting her shoulder. "Actually, they don't control it. The process of senescence is complex, related to genetic heritage, and stress and environmental factors. It may be a factor of Mezoti's Borg assimilation, since she is well past majority. As for Dani and Naomi, you are still _children_."

The last word brought a furious grunt from the Derevo and made Dani's face burn red. Before anyone could question her about it, Dani put a hand to her chin in thought.

"So were the crew's telomeres scanned before they were kidnapped?" Dani said.

"Yes, absolutely," he said. "For whatever reason, whoever did this did not want children."

When Dani just continued to stare at her, Naomi looked at the others before adding: "That's been Captain Janeway's first lesson to us: we can't survive without Starfleet discipline. I think I should assume command and we should switch to survival mode."

With her mother's volatile nature, Miral didn't hold back her disdain for the plan. "If the crew is stuck down there, we're on our own now, Naomi. That scenario doesn't suggest a nesting protocol."

Naomi crossed her arms. "I haven't heard anyone else with a better idea." Her burned Dani with a challenging glare.

"Yes, you did!" Merkit started to say. "Tell her,Dani."

"Merkit," Dani said, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Merkit pulled back and huffed, muttering invectives so low the universal translator did not provide an interpretation.

"We are going to need deuterium," Dani said.

"But we were supposed to get that from the Vashkoi, I thought," Miral said.

"We didn't," she said, hoping Merkit didn't contradict her.

Dani felt a burn on her ears as she turned to a console. "We didn't," she replied, hoping Merkit didn't elaborate on the embarrassing details. Her hands jumped over the controls, as if she were born to them. The computer beeped and the debris field was shone on the screen. "There's deuterium there."

"What is that?" Naomi asked.

"It appears to be the debris of ships," Mezoti replied.

The Doctor crossed his arms. "I'll bet we weren't the only ship trapped. It's likely you're not the only children orphaned either."

"Computer, how many individual ships are represented in that debris field?" Dani asked.

"_Approximately four hundred twenty three ships," _the computer replied in a feminine voice.

"Any life signs?"

"Yes, there are twelve life signs at these coordinates."

The computer superimposed a red blinking light over the blue one indicating deuterium. "They must be recent victims since their deuterium hasn't been depleted," Dani replied.

"What are we going to do?" Naomi asked.

"Simple," Dani said. "Mezoti, didn't you get flight instructions for this bird?"

"Affirmative."

"Terrific! You and I are going to go get that deuterium and those survivors."

Mezoti nodded. "I am ready."

"Hold on!" Naomi and Merkit cried together.

Added to the sound of their objections, was a green text message that obscured the faces of the protestors. _"You can't go."_

"What?" Dani snapped, more for the text than the girls.

Miral watched Dani carefully when she spoke. "You're the Captain now, Dani. You can't go on such a dangerous mission."

"I'm not the Captain," Dani said through gritted teeth.

"So who's in charge?" Dr. von Behring asked.

Dani poked the man's shoulder. "You are."

"Me? I'm a doctor, not a commando! _He _is the one with all the command subroutines."

There was no doubt who _he_ was. It was the nameless Chief Medical Officer, who had disappeared with the ship's power.

Dani shook her head, thinking. Then she turned to Mezoti. "You're the oldest. You can be—"

"My expertise will be needed on this mission or in operations, ship repairs."

"_Mezoti's right,"_ the text read, nearly instantly after Mezoti's reply.

Dani blinked, feeling her eyes cross at trying to read the text and focus on Mezoti. "But—"

"Captain Janeway has been grooming you for command, Eridani," Dr. von Behring pointed out, with emphatics nods of support from Miral.

"Even I can see you are a natural leader," Merkit added with some pride, as if she had a thing to do with it.

Mezoti tipped her head, pondering the facts.

"Bullshit," Dani whispered.

"Have you not memorized all technical manuals for Voyager's systems?" Mezoti asked. "You are also familiar with all recent alterations due to your _unfortunate_ cleansing assignments."

"But…" The objection died on her lips even as the text began fly across her visual center.

"_You are now the Captain. Your time is now. Your ordered steps are inescapable."_

Naomi fell back on her heels, looking around. "I can be your First Officer," she said.

"Like hell," Dani hissed.

When Naomi turned back, her eyes were misty. But she said nothing.

"You have already taken command and issued orders," Mezoti pointed out.

Dr. von Behring stepped closer to the Delta Flyer's replicator. "If we are going to find out what happened, someone has to lead," he said. Then he issued the command for the ship to replicate a Captain's Starfleet uniform in Dani's size.

Dani faced her friends. The green text began to teletype of her visual center: _"Congratulations, Captain."_

She clucked her teeth before growling: "This blows chunky antimatter!"

=/\=

Janeway used the only tricorder they had to scan her spouse.

"Kathryn, that is not a medical tricorder," Seven said with a calm voice.

"I know that," Janeway said, not taking her eyes from the readout. "But maybe…" When she got to Seven's midsection, her eyes widened. "Look at these readings."

Seven lifted a brow, dubious that they would be able to decipher much. "This tricorder has none of my physiology in its database," she said, as she took the device.

"No, but it can tell the difference between organic and metallic compounds."

Janeway raised a hand to her chin as she watched the blood flow from her spouse.

Seven's uncertainty gave way to alarm. "These readings cannot be accurate."

"Why not?"

"Because my physiology is composed of 35 percent metal and metal alloys, all of the Borg components the Doctor could not remove from my system without compromising my life expectancy."

"And that reads 23 percent," Janeway said softly.

"Zero percent within the scope of my pelvis," she said, as she waved it over herself.

"That's what Q has done," Janeway said softly.

Seven looked up in alarm. "What has he done to me?"

"You're menstruating, darling."

"That is impossible!"

Janeway lifted a hand, wiggling her fingers. "My panties," she said. "It appears you're going to have to use them."

"For what purpose?" Seven's voice was shrill.

Janeway offered her a sympathetic look. "To collect your blood lining you will be shedding for the next several days."

"This is monstrous," Seven declared with clipped tones.

Janeway removed her tunic and began to rip her sweater along the lower hem.

"Kathryn, what are you doing?"

"I am making you a pad, since there are no tampons here."

"What is a tampon?" the Borg asked with disdain.

"An intrauterine pad that is inserted into the vagina to collect the uterine lining that is shed."

Seven's look of revulsion almost made Janeway laugh. Not even Dani or Shannon had reacted so childishly to the onset of menses. But the girls had known it was coming.

Janeway held up her one-time underwear—Starfleet gray with a logo at the hip. Inside it, the Captain had folded a strip of her shirt. "Be sure to keep the pad in place until your underwear is pulled up completely," she said.

Seven stared with Borg horror at the new utility she would have to wear.

"Strip, Seven. We'll need to clean you off and see if we can wash your biosuit."

Seven began to unzip her biosuit, aware of Janeway's loving expression. "I do not feel stimulated ," she said.

"What?" Janeway asked, jerking her head up.

"Your look is one of desire," Seven said, stepping out of her biosuit. Blood was streaming down a leg.

Janeway brushed the backs of her fingers along Seven's jaw. "Oh, darling," she replied with a warm look. "I didn't mean for you to feel objectified. I'm sorry."

Seven handed her soiled biosuit to Janeway and tried uselessly to cover her generous breasts with her arms. "I feel diminished," she said, with a hint of bewilderment.

"Because you are menstruating?"

"Because more of my Borg components have been removed without my consent," she said sharply. "Because I must endure this atrocity monthly—"

"Every 28 days," Janeway clarified, as she handed over the prepared underwear.

Seven firmed her jaw, taking it with a distinctly resentful yank.

Just as Janeway bent down to begin her cleaning, she looked up, a faintly crooked smile there. "It's not so bad. You'll get used to it."

"No, I will not," Seven declared, as she washed between her legs. "That was one of the advantages of being assimilated by the Collective. I was amenorrheal."

"I'll let you in on a little secret," Kathryn said, brushing her hair back as she resumed rubbing the two pant legs together.

Seven tried to dry herself with a hand, before slipping on the underwear. "What secret is that, Kathryn?"

"I'd rather get my period until I reach menopause at 70 then be assimilated as a drone," she said.

Seven's face became awash again in alarm. "I will menstruate for another 35 years?"

Kathryn tried to suppress her chuckle. "Seven, think of it as a blessing in disguise."

"You do not perceive it as a blessing when I hear you protest the start of your cycle from the ensuite," Seven noted.

"Still," Kathryn said. "Despite my protest, my cycle is still mine, darling."

"I am unpersuaded, Kathryn." Seven's arms were crossed and, despite being red with fury, she was simply beautiful like the goddess Venus, as she stood regal and nearly naked in the dappled sunlight.

"If these readings are correct—and I believe they are—then Q has restored something that the Borg had stolen from you."

Seven's eyes narrowed as she contemplated a new framing of her predicament.

"Your essential womanhood."

Seven appeared to confused. "But my womanhood does not reside between my pelvis."

Janeway strangled a groan of frustration in her throat. She stood up and rung the biosuit, squeezing a few drops from it. Then the Captain shook it out, lovingly smoothing out the legs for her spouse.

"Here you go," she said.

Seven took the biosuit. "Thank you," she said.

"Let me help you zip it up," Janeway whispered.

Seven tipped her head, giving Janeway access to the fastener at the shoulder. Janeway pressed her lips to the back of Seven's neck. "I love you, even if you are on your period."

Seven stepped around, looking down in search of the mark of red. Then she studied Kathryn's face for a moment. "I am willing to concede that if this is the extent of Q's revenge then it is a trivial matter."

Kathryn shook her head, chuckling quietly. "Now that, my dear, is very, very true."

Seven nudged Kathryn's arm. "What of you? Have you been altered?"

Janeway's smile fell. "I hadn't thought of that." She lifted her chin and arms for Seven's review.

Seven circled the Captain and shook her head. "You appear to be the same," she replied. "Though to be comprehensive, I should conduct a thorough cavity search. Please strip."

Janeway shot Seven a look. "Was that a joke?"

Seven smiled faintly. "If you must ask, then it is a poor one."

The Captain shook her head. "You are more human every day."

"Now you must insult me?" Seven asked.

The Captain smiled, tugging at Seven's biosuit sleeve playfully. "Maybe Neelix' banishment was the only other alteration," she offered.

Seven looked up and around, as well. Her expression was less optimistic. "I understand members of the Q Continuum are spiteful."

"Sometimes," Janeway allowed. "In any event, the sooner we find Neelix and the others the sooner we can plan our escape and the sooner we can get you some tampons."

Janeway chuckled softly at Seven's disapproving stare.

"And the sooner you may rinse your mouth of Herbix' vile caffeine substitute."

Janeway patted her trousers, taking out a wad of the sticky black straw-like chew. "Thanks for reminding me," she said with a wink.

The smallest corner of Seven's mouth curled in disgust.

=/\=

With EV helmets in place, Dani, Naomi and Merkit watched from the corridor porthole as Mezoti fired up the Delta Flyer. It hovered a few feet over the hangar, spinning smoothly to face the closed shuttle bay doors. With Voyager's power gone, there had been no way to open them. So Dani had authorized the use of the Flyer's phaser.

Concentrated nadion particle beam shot out of the Delta Flyer blasting a hole in Voyager's hull. Dani bit hard on her molars. She dreaded the day she was going to have to tell Cappie what they did to her ship and she dreaded the day she would never be able to tell Cappie what they did to her ship.

All of the storage pods and extraneous Borg components rushed out into the vacuum of space. The Delta Flyer, piloted by a lone Borg and a Human-Klingon hybrid, zoomed out on minimal thrusters, careful not to attract the attention of the aliens who had incapacitated Voyager.

"Godspeed," Dani whispered. She fingered the four golden pips at her newly replicated uniform as the departing shuttle disappeared into the blackness of space.

Dani felt the weight of the responsibility she'd accepted. Naomi, in the same red-shouldered command uniform with three pips shifted her feet.

"What's next?"

Dani patted the Doctor's mobile emitter safely tucked into a thigh pocket, with von Behring residing there. "Well, I'm starving," she finally said. "Let's shuffle to Engineering and dig into those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches we beamed them," she said turning.

Dani began to march down the corridor, but stopped when she sensed that no one was following. She half turned. "What's wrong?"

They each attached their helmets and began the cumbersome trek to Deck 11. As they turned the first corner, Naomi cleared her throat. "I've got something to say."

Dani rolled her eyes as she turned to face her. Naomi was always so melodramatic. "What is it?"

"It's about us," she said.

Merkit's eyes widened and she pounded forward, elbowing Dani out of the way to glare at Naomi. "What 'us' are you talking about?"

Naomi's face rippled to confusion. "I meant Dani and I."

"You're lovers!" Merkit accused. Her eyes burned Dani with breathtaking fury. "You lied about your age and now you lied about your availability! You are a disgrace to that uniform."

Dani blinked at the insult. She'd just got it on, how could she have disgraced herself already? She wanted to ask that but Naomi drew her attention.

"You and Dani had sex?"

"Yes," the princess said while Dani shouted "No!"

Naomi looked between the two, puzzled amusement apparent. "I'm confused," she said. "Either you did or you didn't."

"We did," Merkit said, while Dani said the opposite.

"Were you both there?" Naomi asked with a swallowed giggle.

"We made out," Dani try to clarify.

Merkit slowly turned her head. "You are ashamed of me," she accused.

Dani slammed her eyes shut and slowly let out a breath. _This isn't happening to me._

Then in an unprecedented move, the green text began to roll across her vision. _"I told you to only take three others with you the shuttle bay."  
_

It was only written text, but Dani could hear the contemptible laughter there. _"You thought you'd test the limits of my predictions,"_ it wrote. _"Serves you right."_

"Oh shut the fuck up," Dani growled.

"What did you say to me?" the princess asked.

Dani's eyes snapped open. "What? I didn't…"

The sting of Merkit's slap was made all the more painful because the temperature inside Voyager was beginning to drop.

"My father was right! You were a mistake!"

Then she thumped away, the sound of her magnetic boots echoing in the corridor.

Dani rubbed her cheek before finally looking back at Naomi. She frowned at the look of pity and amusement.

"Wow," she said. "You have great taste in girls."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me?" Dani snarled.

Naomi's face sobered. "Actually, I didn't, but I'm not sure I can kick you when you're down."

Dani screwed her face. She knew that her frustration was more with the unknown send of those text messages and less with Naomi; but Merkit had hit an open wound and Dani felt out of control. "That's never stopped you before!"

Naomi's eyes narrowed. "Is this how you treated Merkit? Because if it is, no wonder she's pissed at you."

Dani scratched her head, wondering where that sarcastic text went now that she really needed some advice. Instead she got nothing.

"Just spit it out, Wildman!" Dani snapped.

She pointed an accusing finger. "That's it right there!" Naomi said. "You think you're better than me. You always have!"

Dani groaned. "Do we really have to have this conversation right now?"

"Because it's not convenient for you?" Naomi bellowed.

The sound caught Dani off guard. The girl never yelled.

"Well, too damn bad," Naomi said. "You have had this coming for eight years!"

Dani's face turned stony. "What, Naomi? What have I had coming for eight years?"

"You can have sex with a girl like that and you can't even be my friend. I just don't get it. What is so terrible about me?"

Dani closed her eyes and exhaled again. "We didn't have sex," she gritted through her teeth. "Why do I have to keep saying that?"

"What exactly did you have?"

Dani snapped her eyes open. "Are you jealous?"

Naomi pulled back, nearly falling over except for the magnetic boots that held her firmly in place. "Jealous? Of you? That's the last thing I'd feel." She stared at Dani a long moment. "I do feel anger over how you've treated me—how you treat me in front of the others."

"How do I treat you?"

Dani's glib response sent a wave of anger surging through Naomi Wildman. "You put me down, Dani," she accused. "All the time."

Dani shook her head. "No, I don't."

"It's like you _hate_ me."

Dani's face softened when she saw Naomi's eyes pool with water. "Oh shit," she whispered. "Look, Naomi, I don't hate you. I'm sorry you think that but—"

Naomi brushed angrily at her tears. "Then why did you say 'like hell' a moment ago in the Delta Flyer?"

Dani looked up, running through the conversation while they were on the shuttle. Dani exhaled an audible breath of frustration. "The 'like hell' wasn't directed at you—"

Naomi swallowed her lips and shook her head. "I don't believe you. You really didn't want me to be your First Officer. You'd rather have me scrubbing plasma conduits on a Vidiian freighter than here with you. I am smart, Dani. I have ideas, too."

"I know that!" Dani said, scratching her head. "I know that. When I said that, I was referring to the implication of _me_. Me, not you. I didn't want to be captain. Even temporarily."

Naomi considered the comment and understanding dawned. "Don't you want to be like Captain Janeway?"

"That's not it," she said. "I just can't explain it."

"Try," Naomi ordered.

Dani thought about how Merkit reacted to the truth of her premonitions. She shook her head. She wasn't going to tell Naomi or any of the Voyager kids about that. Ever. She didn't want or need anything to remind Naomi and the others that she wasn't really a Voyager kid—not really bred here in this universe by this Seven or this Captain. She didn't want to remind her how she was different.

If Dani was honest, she needed Naomi's friendship and her support just now. But she couldn't tell her anything about the Borg technology in her head, about how she felt sometimes imprisoned by the premonitions of her Borg implant. Whoever it was that was guiding her life was doing so against her will. She didn't want to _be_ the Captain just now. She just wanted to be herself and the painful part was, Dani didn't know who that was.

"I can't, Naomi," she said with a cracking voice. "I really just can't fully explain it, other to say that, well, I'm.…"

"Rebellious?"

"Yeah, that's it. Sort of."

"And I'm not?"

Dani studied Naomi's expression and breathed a sigh of relief to see a small curl at the corner of her mouth. "Yes," she said. "That's it exactly." _And without all the other baggage,_ she thought. "Who told you?"

"My mom tried to explain it to me after I'd gone home crying one day."

Dani groaned, feeling like the lowest amoeba in the universe. "Oh, geez, Naomi," she said. "I never knew."

"I don't want you to treat me that way anymore."

"Understood," Dani replied.

"Next time, just remember—we all have to follow the rules, Dani," Naomi said, with a little bit of an edge to her voice.

Dani clucked her teeth and shook her head. "Not like me—"

"Because you're the Captain's daughter?" Naomi snapped. "That's just an excuse. Some of us would kill for your parents."

"They're great, mostly," Dani shrugged, wishing like crazy they were on the ship now. "But it's other stuff, too."

"Like what?"

"All the rules," she said. "I mean, you follow them because it's _who_ you are, Naomi," she said. "I—I have no choice and it angers me."

Naomi's confusion washed down her face and Dani knew she couldn't explain about the messages she received through her Borg implant. So she just clamped her mouth down.

Naomi crinkled her brow. "So you dislike me because I follow the rules?"

Dani grimaced. "I sound like an ass when you boil it down like that."

Naomi lifted an eyebrow expectantly, making Dani chuckle.

"Okay, Naomi. I'm sorry for being an ass. But I promise you, it was about me and what's expected. I'll try never to do it again. Can we get to Engineering now?"

"Only if you tell me how you could even bring yourself to even kiss the mouth of that princess."

Dani chuckled, shaking her head. "Bad taste?"

"Yeah," Naomi replied. "Big time."

Dani elbowed Naomi as they plodded forward, fastening their helmets on. "So you're really not jealous?"

"Of her? No, no. That would be silly."

"You sure?" Dani asked with a suggestive smile.

"Pft," Naomi said with the wave her hand. "Yeah, I'm sure. Besides, Azan and I are dating."

Dani listened as Naomi talked on about her boyfriend, relieved that one catastrophe had been averted. Unfortunately, more serious and dire misfortunes awaited the young group.

=/\=

Near dawn the next morning, Captain Janeway and Seven continued to search their perimeter systematically, spreading out in successively larger circles as they called for Neelix, King Conail or the other Talaxians.

With her keen Borg senses, Seven pivoted around, catching Kathryn's wrist. With her Borg chain-mailed hand, she pointed to her right. As the day before, as daybreak approached, fog began to thicken. Visibility was down to about a meter or two.

But the Captain trusted Seven's keen Borg sense of hearing. So she leveled the phaser that direction. "Who goes there?"

The ferns rustled. A figure slowly stood, fog swirling around to reveal a steely-haired man with a bifurcated chin and a ridge at both temples. Janeway gasped and his mouth dropped.

"Kathryn," he said quietly.

"Jaffen!" she cried.

"Jaffen…" Seven said, scanning her own internal memory. "You are the Norvalian who lived on Quarra with…" Seven turned a blank expression on the Captain. "With Captain Janeway."

He stepped closer. "I never thought I'd see you again." His words were tender and Janeway felt their tug.

"I…never thought…" Janeway blinked up at the man several times staring at his strong hands that held hers. "I never thought I'd marry."

He was about to kiss her knuckles, but stopped himself. "You're married?"

Janeway disengaged her hands and Seven could see they were shaking. "This is my wife, Seven." She placed her hand at the small of Seven's back.

Jaffen's smile was pained, but he offered his hand. "I'm Jaffen, but then again, maybe you remember me better as Employee 1326. How odd that Kathryn would marry the Efficiency Monitor that she used complained about the most."

Seven shot her spouse an unkind look and the consummate diplomat in Janeway had the good sense to allow her embarrassment to show. Seven's memories of that time, nearly nine years ago, played as if they'd happened to someone else named Annika Hansen.

That's who she'd been brainwashed to become. She, Kathryn and a few other crewmembers had been kidnapped and made to believe they worked by choice on a planet with a labor supply problem. In Seven's memory, she could see herself threaten the pair of interlopers in her supervisory role; yet it wasn't her. She was not Annika Hansen.

Then Seven heard in the present as the two turned to more pragmatic matters. "How did I get here, Kathryn?"

"You were kidnapped from a ship traveling in this sector?"

"No," he said softly. "I was having lunch with a dear friend—a woman," he added to Janeway's raised eyebrow.

She brushed strands of red behind her ear to hide the inquiry, catching Seven scrutinizing her. Kathryn offered the woman an affectionate look that was greeted with steely Borg indifference. Only it wasn't indifference. _She's jealous!_ Kathryn thought.

Her thoughts were about to delve into that new arena when she heard Jaffen say something she didn't expect. "Where did you say you were, Jaffen?" she said, whipping her head around to face him.

"I was in Umali's bar—"

"On Quarra?"

"Is there another Umali's bar in the Delta Quadrant?"

"So you were on Quarra and then you were here?"

"Yes," he said, lifting a fern between a finger and index finger. "When I heard your voice I thought I'd died and…." Jaffen's smile to Seven was apologetic.

"Q!" Janeway and Seven said simultaneously.

"What's a Q?" Jaffen said.

Janeway massaged her temple. "That's what he's done," she said to Seven. "He's brought back an old friend."

Jaffen stiffened. "I'm not that old."

"I'm sorry," she said. A hand shot out to pat his forearm, but it dropped just as quickly before it reached its destination and ignited more rivalry from her Borg wife.

"You copulated," Seven said with precise clipped tones.

_Too late_, Janeway thought with an exasperated sigh. Jaffen tore his eyes from Kathryn's to look at the boiling Borg.

Janeway bounded forward, ready to head off another incisive Borg question when Jaffen caught her hand. Seven's laser-like eyes scanned down and then she narrowed them on the man, who quickly released it. "It was a long time ago, Seven," he said. "In the end, after Kathryn's memories were restored, she…" He glanced back at the Captain, offering a wistful look. "She chose the ship."

Janeway strangled an objection in her throat, a sound that Seven neither reacted to or apparently heard.

"You are my punishment," Seven said.

"Seven!" Janeway shouted, while Jaffen asked an indignant: "Excuse me?"

For the first time in ten minutes, Seven smiled weakly. "Now that I understand the parameters of Q's infantile game, I shall cease to be resentful." She lifted her chin for good measure.

Jaffen's eyebrows rose and he returned her confident nod. "I'm not sure I understand, but I'm really glad you aren't jealous."

"There's no reason to be," Janeway added.

"No," Jaffen added wistfully.

The trio heard more rustling from the brush behind them and turned in time to see a swarthy man with chiseled chin in an immaculate black uniform of the Devore Imperium. He was holding a disruptor at Janeway's head.

"Kashyk," Janeway whispered.

He smiled without humor. "You'll have no reason to be envious from me," Kashyk said to Seven. "I only tasted her mouth, felt the warmth of her body against mine." He turned to look disdainfully at Jaffen. "Kathryn abandoned you…"

Kathryn objected to that mischaracterization with a cluck of her teeth.

But Kashyk spoke over her. "She used me…" He openly perused Seven of Nine. "And evidently, she's just _playing_ with you. And such a beautiful toy thing at that. And so young!"

Seven lifted her chin defensively.

Janeway firmed her jaw and pointed a finger at Kashyk. "Don't move a muscle," she snarled.

"Or you'll what? Tickle me with your phaser?" The man smirked, as he tucked his own disruptor into a holster.

Janeway handed the phaser to Jaffen. "Shoot him if he looks menacing."

"I'm not very good with weapons," he said, fumbling the phaser as he took it.

"It'll just be a minute," she whispered. "Seven, can I talk to you privately."

Janeway stood where she could keep an eye on Kashyk. Her expression was hard as she remembered the man's brutal and remorseless betrayal. He'd been the one to toy with her affections before dropping the boom to catch the empaths she was smuggling through Devore space.

Her expression softened as she looked worriedly into Seven's eyes, searching for reassurance. "Seven," she whispered, gently laying a shaking hand on her spouse's. "Darling."

"Kathryn, I am all right," she said. "But it is disconcerting to become aware that my wife had as many lovers as—"

"I never slept with Kashyk!" Janeway covered her mouth, trying to control her emotions. She lifted the hand in resignation. "Just Jaffen." Her face looked helpless. "But my memory had been affected," she added meekly. "Remember?"

Seven took Kathryn's hand, toying with the scratched and dinged wedding band on her right hand. "I know," she said, before pressing her lips to the soft knuckles. "It is not as if you were engaged to be married to them."

Kathyrn's lips tugged into a crooked smile. "That's right, Seven. I _never_ agreed to marry any of them."

"But you agreed to marry me."

Kathryn whirled in alarm at the deep voice behind her. Strangely, Mark Johnson was standing behind her in black T-shirt and red plaid flannel shirt that hung open. His hair was more salt now and less pepper. The stocky, chiseled face normally so carefree and happy watched etched in growing alarm.

"Mark," she whispered.

Seven's perfect memory supplied her with the rest, even as she released Kathryn's hand. Her keen Borg auditory sense drew her attention to the leafy underbrush beside them and leveled the phaser.

A red-haired Irish setter beside Mark began to growl threateningly.

"Is that Mollie?" Janeway asked with a hitch in her voice. Mollie had been her rescued pet that she'd been forced to leave behind when she was lost in the Delta Quadrant.

The dog barked, revealing sharpened white teeth and then it lunged forward. Seven's phaser tracked the dog within its scope, earning an objection from the Captain.

The large dog leapt up while a drooling veeber caw sprang from the bushes. Its green fur was a blur against the lush jungle floor.

The phaser fire shot out. The nadion particle beam gracefully curved through the air, even as the dense, thundering fog answered the phaser discharge with a forked orange lightning bolt.

The dog collided with the warm carcass of a feral tiger-like animal while the orange lightning bolt twisted around the Borg implants imbedded in Seven of Nine's body. Her eyes widened in alarm. Her mouth fell open. She dropped the phaser. Then she fell backward, as stiff as a cadaver.

"Seven!" the Captain cried.


	7. Fearful Asymmetry

A/N: First of all, thank you to those of you who've been kind enough to leave reviews. They mean a lot. My apologies for taking so long. I wrote myself into a corner and it took a while to think my way out of it. Hope you enjoy it.

Revised: 9-27-11. I goofed and forgot Seven was supposed to be bald. My bad. Thanks to Misdirection for catching that.

**Living Daylights**

**Chapter 6: Fearful Asymmetry**

For a split second, Captain Kathryn Janeway wanted to be merely a woman. One who could express her fears like any other with a cry and sob on the unconscious shoulder of her dear spouse. But the Captain she was trained to be knew that none of that would ultimately save Seven of Nine.

Rigorous Starfleet training took over. Nearly on automatic, Janeway searched for Seven's carotid artery. The rhythmic thumping she found did little to reassure her because Seven was still unconscious from mysterious atmospheric feedback.

Mark Johnson, the man who would have been her husband had circumstances been different, squatted beside her while his hand kept a firm grip on the collar of the Irish setter beside him. "Is she okay, Kathryn?"

"I don't know," she replied. "But she's alive."

She took a deep, calming breath and stood up, wiping a sleeve against her sopping brow before unzipping her jacket. Then she tugged the sleeves down and methodically folded it.

Janeway crouched beside the prone figure of her spouse and gingerly raised her head, pillowing the jacket there She looked around, her head tipped in one direction.

"What are you listening for?" Jaffen asked quietly as she came to stand beside her.

"I want to make sure there are no more wild cats out there."

Mark patted Mollie's head, her tongue hanging out as he held onto her collar tightly. "She'll let us know," he said.

Janeway searched Mark's face. It was nearly identical to the one in her memories, except the man before her now had faint lines fanning around his eyes. His voice seemed to match but she could not trust Q and his games.

Feeling the scrutiny, Mark looked down at Seven. "What are we doing here, Kathryn? And who is the woman on the ground?"

Kathryn looked tenderly at the apparently sleeping Borg. "This is Seven of Nine. She is a member of my crew." She nearly clucking her teeth at the dark smudges that streaked across the bald pate of her wife's head. Seven would be displeased to be so untidy, Kathryn thought ruefully. She brushed Seven's cheek with the back of her hand before pushing herself back to standing. She looked back at Mark. "Seven is also my wife."

His dark brow shot up. "Wife." The quiet tone belied the surprise.

Janeway felt the tug of affection for the man. Could she feel like this while her spouse lay dying? The question infuriated her and she clamped down hard on the feelings. They had no place here. Mark was more than likely merely a puppet, animated by a scorned Q. But perhaps the tool knew something of the game. "What are you doing here, Mark?"

Before he could answer, the tall, darkly handsome figure of Kashyk asserted himself. "I really hate to spoil the lovely reunion." He pointed the business end of his Devore phaser at Janeway's head. "But we really must be going. Now Kathryn, let's find your ship. Shall we?"

"Sorry," she said in a tone that said otherwise. Her look of contrition was tempered with a hint of mockery. "Ship's out of reach, Kashyk."

Kashyk worked his jaw, as he stared at her. He tried unsuccessfully to reach his crew on his communicator device, all the while leveling Janeway and the two men with his Imperial phaser. "I don't understand," he finally said.

Janeway looked in turn at each man. "You could be merely delusions that Q's conjured from my past," she said mildly. "But if you are really you, then you've all been kidnapped and brought to the edge of the Milky Way galaxy."

"Why?" Kashyk snapped.

She shrugged a shoulder. "The whim of an omnipotent being."

Jaffen kept his eyes on Janeway. "I think you know there is more to this, Kathryn." He gestured to Mark. "As I recall, he's your fiancé."

"Ex," both she and Mark said together. They eyes held each other's for a second too long before Janeway looked away.

"I'm your _ex_-lover…." Jaffen carefully turned to Kashyk. "So that would make you one as well?"

"Heavens, no," Kashyk said. "Though she seems to change lovers like most people change shirts."

Janeway glared at the man who had tried to use her affections to betray her. It had seemed so long ago when Voyager was traveling through Devore space with several illegal empaths on board. They'd made it through without losing a single person, but it came at a great personal cost. Though she had felt a genuine connection to the man, her instinct never trusted him. She'd shared a few intimate moments with the man, a kiss, a brush of the hands and a wistful embrace. At the end of the day, Voyager was safe; but Janeway was alone and thought she would remain so. Now she just wish that she were, alone with Seven.

"Let's focus our energy on getting off of this rock," she said, brushing a forehead with a sleeve of her undershirt. She looked up. The blue sun's heat was nearly unbearable.

=/\=

Seven sat up. "Kathryn," she said, to the figure kneeling beside her. She watched as Kathryn's hand seemed to reach through where she thought to sat. She looked down to see her own face asleep. The surprise energized her to her feet. Only then did Seven realize she felt nothing of the natural world. No force of gravity holding her in place. No heat from the dying blue sun.

She tried to touch Kathryn's shoulder, but her ethereal hand slipped below the planes of the Captain's body. "Captain Janeway," she snapped more forcefully.

"She can't hear you."

Seven's turned to see a smug Q decked in a Starfleet command uniform. "What have you done, Q?" she asked pointedly.

"I?" he asked with a bit of dramatic flair. "I've saved your life. If it weren't for me, your body would be cold right now, the result of the plasmic discharge."

Seven's eyes spotted the phaser among the vines by her hand and the body of a dead veeber caw nearby. "I remember."

"It was really foolish, considering you knew what would happen."

Seven lifted her chin to look Q in the eye. "Still knowing, I had to protect Kathryn."

Q rolled his eyes.

"Reunite me with my body," she demanded.

Q clasped his hands behind his back and he began to walk around her. Seven noted that he was nearly transparent also. A simple glance at her hand confirmed that they both were, yet they remained on the moon's surface with Kathryn.

"Seven," Q whispered. "Seven of Nine." He let the words roll off his tongue. As he circled her, he glanced at her form, his eyes coming to rest on her bald pate. As if he'd reached a decision, Q came to rest in front of her. "I took Jean-Luc to the past once."

"Is that where you will take me? To my past where you will bore me with what could have been had I not been assimilated?"

Q grimaced at her comment, but surprised her with a non sequiter. "You may remember him as Locutus." He gestured toward her bald head, as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. "He's bald, as well. I wonder if it's a flaw in the Borg genome."

Seven let her brow rise slightly. "Is there a relevance to this discussion, Q?"

Q's eyes became distant as he spoke. "Have you ever wondered why a Frenchman speaks with an English accent?"

Seven pointedly arched a brow. "Considering your aimless banter, perhaps you should replace me back in my body so that I may face my—"

"There!" Q said testily after he'd snapped their fingers. A flash of light encompassed them and the scenery changed. "Humans are like brats. They can never live in the moment. Always thinking about the future." Q lifted his arms, as Seven surveyed her surroundings.

The harsh jungle-like conditions of the moon had melted away into an idyllic scene of lush, shady trees and a thick carpet of green. She could hear the _Rana catesbeiana_ croaking beside a still pond. The countless limbs of the _Magnolia acuminate_ swayed nearby. And under it lived a yellow, three gabled house.

When Seven remained silent, Q finally turned to study her. "Well?"

She turned her attention away from her surroundings, studying Q intensely. "Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to ask me where we are—or more precisely _when _we are."

Seven again scanned the pond, the Magnolia tree and the house again. "I will not."

Q rolled his eyes and he lifted his arms as he announced with all the haughty pomp he could muster: "This is your future."

Seven glanced up at the sky and spied a soaring hawk, its cry echoing below. "It is a lovely M class planet."

Q finally crossed his arms. "Borg!" he barked through grinding teeth. "This isn't just any M class. It's Earth!"

Seven's face remained indifferent as she clasped her hands behind her back. "I will have to accept your conclusion since I have no means of independent verification."

Q ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "How ever does Kathy put up with your boorishness?"

Seven tipped her head. "If you return us to her, I am sure Kathryn would be pleased to answer the question for you."

He growled as he snapped his fingers again. They were inside a large bedroom, dark wood planks floored the length of it. A poster bed nestled against a pale brown wall between two large windows. Sheer white curtains ruffled in the breeze.

Hanging on a wall near the bed was a self-portrait of Leonardo DaVinci and, on a table below it, was a bronze sextant, used in ages past to navigate Earth's seas.

There were two high back chairs, both Starfleet red, arranged in front of a dark fireplace. The small side table between the chairs was stacked with padds. Above the mantel was a portrait of a sleek but battered Voyager emerging triumphantly from a brilliant nebula.

"This is _your_ future, Seven."

After registering the items that could in fact belong to her or Kathryn, Seven faced Q. "For what purpose have you brought me here, Q?"

He poked her shoulder slightly and she yielded to the invasion, allowing herself to fall back just out of his reach. "Aren't you the least bit curious about what the future will hold for you and Mrs. O'Nine?"

She glanced at the bed, where Q had gestured. Her heart lurched when a frail but familiar voice called to them. "Darling, is that you?"

Seven cast a disparaging glance at Q before proceeding gingerly to the bed. Only her Borg stoicism could prevent the shock from tumbling out of her at what she saw. "Kathryn?"

A white haired woman with milky eyes looked in her direction. The beautiful chiseled features remained, but were covered with the betrayal of lines and wrinkles. Kathryn stretched out her spotted hand, her knuckles looking prominent against the brittle bones. "Seven? I'm thirsty."

Seven looked around and hastily poured a glass of water, drawing close for the woman to drink. "The temperature of your hands is low, Kathryn," she said, even as her hand pushed back affectionately on the woman's hair.

Kathryn leaned into the touch, her lips tugging into a timeless expression. "I am a little cold."

Seven nearly cried out at the fragility of Kathryn's cracking voice. "Allow me pull the covers up, my love," she said. She unrolled another quilt that lay neatly folded at the foot of the bed, drawing them around her wife's delicate form. When she drew back, Seven kissed the woman's forehead.

"I knew you'd come back to me." Kathryn closed her eyes as her lips tugged to a faint smile. With Seven's human hand clasped between her own, she appeared to be drifting to sleep. "It's a good dream this time." Her whisper trailed off into gentle snores.

Seven gave Q a vexing frown.

"What?" he boomed.

Seven snapped to Kathryn, concerned she'd be awakened by Q's insensitivity.

"Oh, she can't hear us," Q snapped. "No one can hear me unless I allow it."

Seven dropped her forehead to Kathryn's hands. Despair flooded her usually controlled voice with a single sob. "Why have you brought me here, Q? To see Kathryn's death looming?"

"Every puny human wants to know the future. Now you know it _as I know it_." He glanced down and curled his lips at the prone figure. "And it isn't pretty."

"Is she ill?" Seven asked.

"Ill? If being human is sick, then yes, she's absolutely sick."

Seven narrowed her eyes. "Do not engage me in your vulgar games, Q. You have brought me here and I require the explanation."

"She's dying, Seven. Are all Borg as dim-witted as you?"

Seven rubbed her check along the back of Kathryn's hand, closing her eyes in reverence. "Why have you done this to me—allowed me to witness my spouse on her death bed?"

"Me? You're the one thinking of the future. Now you know," he said. Q looked away, looking uncomfortable in how far he'd twisted his neck. "Besides, you stole Kathryn from me. I am merely making sure you understand that she will continue to age…"

Seven continued to study Kathryn's face. "She stated I would return to her. Of what does she speak?"

Instantly, Seven and Q were standing outside the gabled house. On a hilltop just a few meters away stood a graying headstone. It read: "Seven of Nine Beloved Wife and Mother 2350 to 2387."

"But I do not age," Seven whispered.

"You didn't die of old age," Q said with a yawn.

Seven's eyes shone with unspent tears. "But this is incompatible with…." Her voice trailed off.

"You didn't expect this, huh? No one ever does." Q leaned in. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Seven. You are not immortal."

"But what could have been the cause of my termination at 37 years of age?"

"Tell you and ruin all the fun? I don't think so," he said.

Seven's features dissembled to Borg stoicism. "Very well, then," she said curtly. "Q remand me back to my time at once!"

"Oh, but we aren't done," he said.

=/\=

The bridge of the U.S.S. Voyager remained dark, except for a single beam of light near the center, under the helm console. Eridani Janeway, bedecked in a Starfleet captain's uniform, lay prone under the workstations. EPS conduits hung down in a disarray from an access point under the console.

"Computer, run a diagnostic on the bridge EPS conduits."

She waited with abated breath. She adjusted her arm light as she poised a laser welder to reseal the stubborn conduits.

"All power conduits on the bridge are now operational."

"Yes!" she whispered as she now worked to replace the access cover.

Suddenly, sparkles appeared and the figure of the EMH Dr. Galen von Behring appeared. "Captain Janeway," said the duplicate doctor.

"Where?" Dani shouted, as she bolted up, slamming her forehead into the edge of the panel. She fell back and rubbed her head. "Is the Captain here?"

The Emergency Medical Hologram had the good sense to look embarrassed. "Actually, I was referring to you."

She groaned. "That hurts," she whispered, still rubbing her forehead as she rolled over and out from underneath the malfunctioning workstation.

"Let me see," the Doctor said, taking out a medical tricorder.

He lifted her chin as he ran the tricorder over her forehead. "Just a contusion. It should go away in two to three days."

Dani turned back to collect the laser welder. "That's the last of it," she said, rising to her feet. "We should have power throughout the ship now that Mezoti's back with the deuterium."

She glanced quickly at the Doctor doing a double take of what she saw. "What's wrong?"

"You haven't eaten in twelve hours, Captain."

"Yes, I have."

"Unless you have some source I don't know about, you haven't."

She rubbed her chin and tried to stifle a yawn. "Maybe I just forgot."

"I've instructed the computer to alert me to the crew's liquid and nutritional intake. Seeing as how our crew is so young and inexperienced, I'd rather avoid malnutrition at this point."

"But there's a few more things…"

"It can wait, Dani," he said. "Besides, I hear Mezoti's restored auxilliary power in the Mess Hall. That means the replicators are online."

"I know," she said sharply. "I ordered it reinitialized for the crew."

"Well, then you should now accept that you are a member of the crew and now I'm ordering _you_ to eat, Captain."

He took her by the shoulder and walked her to the Jeffries tube.

She stopped, looking down at the dark hole through which she would have to descend. "How are our guests?"

Mezoti had rescued twelve Talaxian youth from a freighter with live deuterium among the lifeless ships circling the moon.

"The Talaxian youths are fine," he said. "But _malnourished_."

She adjusted her flashlight arm strap and nodded. "Now I know why Cappie hates going to sickbay."

"Maybe Cappie's aversion is genetic," Dr. von Behring called back.

=/\=

Dani finally rounded the corner of the corridor as the Mess Hall door slid open. She stopped abruptly, stunned by the loud music and dancing. She leveled her flashlight, its harsh glare forcing several crew members to blink or look away.

"Computer, auxiliary lights."

Track lights along the deck of the Mess Hall's perimeter flickered on and the strobe lights ceased. Dani assessed the few dancers—all of them were Lt. Harry Kim's two sets of twins. She eyed each of the Kim quads in turn: Alila, the only girl, and Arik, Petrum and Stefran had the good sense to look discomfited.

Six others were seated in groups of two, all of them eating sprinkled ice cream. Dani bit hard on her molars as she found her sister in one corner. Shannon Janeway was seated so close to Dukat Wildman that her sister wasn't sure she wasn't in his lap. Dukat held a spoon that was midway to her mouth.

"What the hell is going on?" Dani finally asked, looking first at her sister, as one of the more senior, and then the others, one by one.

"Dinner," Crewman Stefran Kim said. He looked very much like the young Harry Kim, despite his young age.

"And exercise," one of his brother's added added.

Dani nodded thoughtfully and then crossed her arms. "So it doesn't bother you that our parents are imprisoned on that moon?"

The Kim quads shifted uncomfortably.

"We've been on duty for the last twelve hours," Shannon said sharply.

Dani gave a sarcastic shake of her head. "Is the ship ready?" she asked her sister as she stepped closer.

"You tell me," Shannon snapped.

"Not even close." Dani said each word slowly, as grabbed Shannon's wrist and yanked up. She tugged Shannon off of Dukat's lap.

Shannon yanked back, rubbing her wrist. "What is your problem?"

Dani seize the bowl from the table top. "Ice cream, Shannon? At a time like this? You are eating ice cream?"

"We. Were. Hungry!" Shannon growled.

"Our crew is probably starving and you're what?" Dani glanced at the bowl of vanilla ice cream before tossing it against a bulkhead. "You're _celebrating_?"

The rest of the remaining crew grew eerily quiet.

Shannon didn't flinch at the crashing sound of ceramic meeting metal. She just stared unflinching at her older sister before stepping closer. "You are just mad you didn't think of this first. You would have been the first one to propose a party." She smirked when Dani opened her mouth to speak, but closed it before doing so.

Dani felt the burn of her ears at her sister's remark. "Computer, limit replicator rations to protein and plant edibles. Authorization Eridani Seven Janeway Alpha."

"Rations reduction enabled," said a feminine voice.

Dani tried to ignore the soft groans from the young crew. But she couldn't, not with her sister's accusation still hanging in the air. "Brownies and ice cream won't give you what you need to get the job done. I know you're warped out with stress. I am, too. But now more than ever we need to focus. Our parents and our friends need us. All of you have the next eight hours to rest. Make the most of it."

Dani watched most of the young crew wisely exit, with their final sweet treat in hand. "And if I see any more needless expenditure of resources, I'll throw you in the brig myself. Get me?"

Their only acknowledgement—except for Dukat and Shannon—was a begrudging "aye, captain."

"You are dismissed," she said, before executing a crisp Starfleet regulation ninety degree turn to face her sister. "Shannon, a word, please."

Her sister slowly turned to kiss Duke's lips before nonchalantly walking toward the exit. Once in the corridor, her cool disintegrated. "What?" she snapped.

Dani's fists slipped to her hips. "What is your problem?" she whispered as the crew continued to file out of the Mess Hall.

"Oh, let's see," she said, her blonde ponytail bobbing back and forth. "I haven't slept in the last thirty six hours. I have more work than I can possibly do. My parents have been kidnapped. And I'm stuck on the Good Ship Lollipop with Captain Squeak."

The use of Dani's much-hated nickname raised the veins of her neck and she sucked in her lips, her eyes lifting in watery pools. "I'm sorry this isn't a pleasure cruise." She bit hard on her molars when Shannon rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry I'm in charge…and you're not."

"Do you really think that's what this is all about?"

"Not entirely, but you know you always hated it when I got to be the lead."

Shannon grimaced, ran a hand over her blonde hair and finally pushed off the bulkhead. "I'm outta here," she said, gracefully avoiding Dani's arm grab.

But Dani wasn't done. Before she could even think about it, Dani had her sister's face pressed against the bulkhead. "Grow up, damn you!"

"You're hurting me!" Shannon managed to say.

Dani released her sister and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Shannon stood there with her back to Dani. Her shoulders rose and fell with every breath. "The next time you do that I'm going to kick your ass," Shannon said through clenched teeth without even bothering to look back.

"The next time you're in a room with me, check your attitude, Ensign. Or I'll throw _you_ in the brig."

Shannon looked over her shoulder. "Oh, get over yourself, will you?"

Dani shoved her forward. Shannon was forced to push off against the bulkhead to avoid kissing it. "I'm not kidding, Shannon," Dani said.

"Neither am I, Squeak!"

Dani narrowed her eyes. "You heard me, Ensign. And keep your skivvies on around Duke."

Shannon finally whirled. Her face was red. "That's none of your business."

When Shannon's tears began to fall, Dani softened her expression. "Look, Shay, I didn't like where he had his hand."

"Where he had his hand is none your god-damned business." She punctuated the last four words with a poke to Dani's chest, just north of her commbadge.

Dani let her shoulder give, as she listened. "This is my life, too," Shannon said. "I'm standing at the end of it and there's a lot I haven't done—"

"You're wrong," Dani finally said, sounding out every syllable carefully. "Everything and everyone on this ship is _my _business. It comes with this mindfuck of a Captain's job. And I hate every minute of it! But I'll be damned if I'm going to let Mom and Cappie down. That means tell Dukat to keep his hands and _everything else_ off of you."

Shannon's mouth dropped open. "You really think I'm just screwing around, don't you?"

"From what I saw, yeah."

"We were blowing off steam. Captain. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have any artificial gravity."

Dani hid her surprise in a short nod. "Gravity isn't the only thing we need." She began to tick off the priorities on her fingers. "Propulsion systems, navigation, communications and weapons."

"We're doing our best," Shannon wailed. It echoed down the empty corridor.

Dani glanced over her shoulder to look back at the Mess Hall. "Your best better get better, Ensign. Our survival depends on it."

Shannon laughed quietly before looking away. When she looked back at her sister, there was an edge Dani had never seen. "You must think we're all pretty daft, Dani."

"No," she said. "I think you're tired, like me. Tired is sloppy. Sloppy is death. We aren't going to fail on this, Shay. And I need your help most of all."

"You need my help?" Shannon said, letting her shoulders shake in an exaggerated laugh. "So you're idea of enlisting it is to embarrass me in front of our friends. That's absolutely brilliant, Captain Janeway."

Dani exhaled. "Look, Shannon. I'm doing my best here."

"Your best better get better, Captain," Shannon said, as she started to walk away.

Dani watched Shannon's determined strides down the corridor. "Shit," she whispered to herself, wanting the damned text messages to show her the way. In typical fashion, they were silent. "I need you," she whispered.


	8. The Widening Gyre

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and please enjoy.

**Living Daylights**

**Chapter 7: The Widening Gyre**

In another flash, Seven of Nine was transported elsewhere. She was not certain of the time or spatial coordinates, though judging by the constellations, it was Earth. The mountains, the bay and the oceans just beyond, not to mention a suspension bridge, suggested the winking lights of the San Francisco area of the North American Sector.

Night-time insects were well into the fourth movement of their orchestra. She hardened her face as she watched Q saunter toward a small encampment on the hillside. Seven's mind was filled with memories of Kathryn and their subunits. She was about to block the warm recollections when Seven considered their relevance to present situation.

During the foursome's rare vacations away from the ship, usually by shuttle, the children would suffer from what the Captain called "cabin fever." It was a most heinous and tormenting way for Seven to travel. If it was not Eridani inciting Shannon to a frothing rage by merely placing a fingertip in proximity, then it was the reverse.

Seven had found these quarrels to be illogical and utterly meritless, and yet the arguing between the subunits persisted beyond the patience of any Borg to endure.

Finally, Kathryn had explained her seemingly saintly patience to her wife. Kathryn threw an arm around the Borg, bringing her temple to rest against Seven's dimpled chin. "Look, darling," she whispered. "It's like we are observing wild animals on an uncharted planet." She gestured toward the squabbling pair.

Seven's frown had lost its edge. She had always adored Kathryn's playfulness, a side she rarely shared with just anyone. "The alpha child of the moment gains a great deal of enjoyment through absurd provocations…."

In Seven's perfect memory, she heard the wail of her youngest child followed by a complaint that Eridani was staring at her.

Kathryn had turned to face her, seeming to adjust Seven's collar and to accidently brush the backs of her fingers against the tip of one of Seven's tightly encased breasts. Seven moaned aloud in present time to the moan in her memory at Kathryn's sensual and covert tease.

Kathryn's features had softened. She had tried to speak, but Seven's frank response made her shiver. But the increasing volume of the subunits' dispute seemed to refocus the Captain on the lesson at hand, rather than on the pleasures to come. "So if we do not react and we can teach at least one of them not to take the bait, then…"

"We could disrupt the cycle," Seven finished.

Kathryn rewarded her with a brilliant smile, which quickly became a frown when a loud crash was heard. Behind them, the subunits had fallen to the deck in a tangle of fists and hair.

In the present, Seven made a conscious decision to refrain from reacting to Q's provocations and she explained this to him. "I will circumvent your perpetual adolescence."

"I'm offended," he said haughtily. "I thought we were _both_ having fun."

"Incorrect," Seven spat.

"Well, whatever," he said with a toss of his hand as he began to circle a curious band of half-naked derelicts. Q seemed to zero in one particular, a blonde. She had a head of twisted rope-like locks and no shirt, except for green pigment that covered her breasts, stomach and back. Her shoulders and upper arms were covered in ornate, scroll-like tattoos. Her brown pants were a filthy, tattered mess, exposing her knees and thighs.

Q stopped behind the blonde and crossed his arms. "Good luck with your plan, by the way," he said with a saccharine smile.

Seven felt her own internal warning klaxons sounding. In the darkness, she stepped closer until the flecks of the campfire could have singed her own boots, except for the fact that she really was not present. It was then that she saw the clues. Large gray-blue eyes, the dimpled chin and a small Starfleet commbadge tattooed above her left breast.

"Is this my subunit, Shannon Astrid?" Seven had tried to modulate her voice, make it stronger. But she realized she failed when she heard Q laugh.

"Not so easy, is it?" He injected his face beside the young woman who was pouring a meager soup into a bowl.

"What has she done?" Seven asked, uncaring that her question was tinged with fear.

When she heard a sound, Seven's head snapped sharply to a set of ratty tents just within the circle of warmth provided by the fire.

"Mama, mama!" A red-haired boy with a smattering of freckles on his nose ran toward them. Seven noted the boy's lean build allowed him to wear old, threadbare pants that hung to his scrawny shins. "The baby's awake!"

Shannon's head fell back. "Again," she whispered in a voice heavy with fatigue.

"My grand…units," Seven garbled uncharacteristically as she watched another child, a girl this time with long, unruly blonde hair run out to stand beside her brother. The frayed hem of her dress hung to her soiled knees and her big toes winked out of gaping holes in untied boots.

"Grandunits?" Q mocked. "Now there's a charming mouthful."

From the tent, a child's cry boomed forth.

Seven tipped her head to listen. When the robust cry was joined by the unmistakable mewling of a newborn, she launched herself forward. "How many subunits are there?" Seven demanded, as she marched forward.

"I don't know," Q replied, following her closely. "But I'm sure you'll find out."

Inside the small tent, old towels and ripped sheets served as the flooring. Stained pillows were placed almost haphazardly around the tent. To one side, surrounded by a small barrier of rolled cloth, sat Shannon with a newborn suckling one breast and a toddler the other.

Seven realized she was about to break her own promise. "Q!" she barked. "Why is this future so bleak? It is bewildering and horrifying to witness!"

Q schooled his features to concern, as he watched the very human scene. "You don't approve of breastfeeding then?" he asked sympathetically.

Seven's eyes widened and the veins in her neck corded. "Why is my daughter here and not within the city? Why must she serve such a nutritionally diluted meal to my grandchildren? Why is she caring for numerous offspring without the benefit of a partner?"

Just then, the tent flap opened and the two older children barreled in, followed by a grizzled man. He was tall and his clothes appeared to be newer. He pushed his sleeves up to reveal a tattoo on his right forearm. It was an image of a stylized sun. Small arcs jutted from its perimeter with a square center point.

When he adjusted a small gas lamp, it illuminated his face showing Seven that the entire right side of his face was tattooed with stylized images of sun, moon, trees and lizards.

"Who is this man?" Seven barked.

"Well, I'm assuming he's the father," Q volunteered. "Or at least one of them."

The last comment earned him an incendiary look from Seven that would have instantly combusted any crewmember on Voyager. But he merely shrugged.

"Is this not the future? Are you not omniscient?" she demanded.

"Yes, yes, of course," he said with a flippant wave of his hand. "You humans are so exacting, as if every point in a time were fixed…." Q's eyes trailed to Seven, as if he'd said too much.

"Why has Shannon done this?" Seven asked, scratching her bare temple. "Poverty was eliminated on Earth long ago."

"By human standards, this isn't really poor, per se," Q offered. "They have cooking utensils and lighting and this lovely nursery."

Seven stared at Shannon, as she lifted her chin to receive a peck from the lips of the unknown male. Seven's gaze shifted to the man. He appeared to be approximately the same age as her daughter. Her perfect memory committed every characteristic of his face, every measurement such as the slope of his nose, the distance between his eyes, the texture of his hair to her infallible memory. She would be certain to know this person. _At any age_, Seven assured herself.

"They're living off the grid," Q finally said.

"What is the significance of 'living off the grid?'?"

Q looked up, rubbing his chin, to simulate that he was deep in thought. But Seven knew it was another of his affectations to appear human. She had no delusions that he knew about this circumstance, more than he would ever reveal.

"They are not accepting the modern conveniences that the power grid provides. He's an anarchist—or really, _they_ are anarchists. They refuse to accept the provisions of the government. It's a statement of self-reliance, really. Of passive civil disobedience. So congratulations, you've raised the ultimate non-conformist—which is really a feat for a Borg mother, if you think about it."

Seven called out Shannon's name. Q's mocking reminder did not deter her from trying again to warn her against the folly of this timeline. "This lifestyle is _primitive_." Seven injected every ounce of disdain into the last word. It was the anti-thesis of the Borg perfection or even Starfleet ideals, such as they were.

"Maybe they like it," Q offered.

"Or perhaps she is trapped," Seven countered.

"Oh, waa!" Q bellowed, earning a glare from the Borg mother. "She's a grown woman. She chose this."

Seven wondered if the infirmed Kathryn she had left behind had allowed this. _She must inquire,_ she thought. "Take me home, Q."

He rolled his eyes. "You're an imperious little drone, aren't you?"

"I tire of your games."

"Too bad. We've got one more stop." He snapped his fingers and they vanished from the San Francisco countryside.

=/\=

Lt. Tom Paris shivered as he patted himself for warmth. The sweat he'd worked up planetside now seemed to cool him too well inside the confines of the strange alien ship.

He squinted down the cold, dark corridor to get his bearings. "I'm cold," he groused to his crewmembers behind him. "I should have brought a torch and it smells like cat piss in here."

Chakotay slammed into the stationary lieutenant. "Sorry, Tom," he muttered as he grimaced at the sensation of gripping the frosty bulkhead. He rubbed his hand against his thigh. "Next time warn me you've stopped."

Behind them, from a pinpoint of light that was the hatch they'd pried open, a familiar and agitated voice called to them. "What? Is this a damn dancing class, ladies? You know these jellyfish buggers don't stay here long!"

"Okay, B'Elanna!" Tom called behind him. He crinkled his nose at the strong odor assaulting his mammalian olfactory. "We love you, too."

Chakotay switched his flashlight on, adjusting it on his forearm.

"How…?" Tom asked, as Chakotay marched purposefully past him.

"I was inspecting the lower decks when we were taken," he said, he said of the flashlight. "Now let's move."

Tom patted the tricorder at his side. "Well, it's a good thing my wife carries this wherever she goes," he said. "Even to bed. Let me tell you how awkward _that_ is at night."

"Tom," Chakotay chided as he came to a "Y" intersection of corridors. He flashed the light down both before choosing to go left.

Tom wiped his nose and opened his mouth to breathe in. The cold air hurt his lungs. "God, these aliens must be slobs," he informed. "Someone forgot to clean the toilets."

"It's ammonia," Chakotay informed him. "Humanoids excrete it as a waste byproduct."

"Maybe that explains why I feel like someone's blown up my head and then reassembled it back together again—in all the wrong places."

"It's interesting," the First Officer said, after a round of coughing. He lifted his undershirt to cover his nose and mouth. "Scientists have theorized about ammonia-based life."

"I prefer a theoretical life to this one," Tom said after a hacking fit.

The corridor suddenly opened up to a large room, with large, smooth cubes in the center that were attached to hoses. The room was clouded from swirling white vapor. "We won't be able to stay much longer," Chakotay said. "It's getting a lot colder in here."

"Why is that water vaporized then?" Tom asked, running his hand through a small eddy.

"That's not water. It's vaporized ammonia."

Tom rubbed his neck again and coughed. "Maybe that's why my throat is burning."

"This is probably the results of their descent into the moon's warm atmosphere and the hatch being opened," Chakotay said, bouncing the light around to find some sort of computer interface in the room. "Otherwise…"

"We'd be swimming in a pool of ammonia—if I remember my biochem notes."

"Let's go," he said abruptly. "We'll try to again on the next cycle."

Just as they turned, they came face to face with one of the aliens. An ammonia vapor churned around the bobbing creature, its squat torso buoyed by the sudden stop. The creature's vague tentacle-like appendages swayed to the side, along with the long tendrils under it.

At the top of the torso was a small protrusion that Chakotay perceived as its head. Instead of eyes, it had two dark spots toward the top, but no nose or mouth.

"Hello," Chakotay said, trying desperately to hold onto a cough. His raised his arms in a universal gesture of being unarmed. "My name is Chakotay. We would really like to communicate with you. Can you do that?"

The translucent alien suddenly turned a milky white.

"What does that mean?" Tom asked.

Chakotay tipped his head, slowly lowering his arms. When the flashlight beam hit the creature, its transparent skin darkened even further to a gray color. "Did you hear that?" he asked.

"Yeah, I did," Tom said, lifting his palm from his mouth and nose. "It sounded like a fading whine."

"A rising whine, to be exact," Chakotay clarified. "It seems they communicate outside our hearing range."

"Terrific."

Just then, more aliens arrived—all of them displaying the gray opacity of the first. Chakotay and Tom heard another rising whine as the aliens began to surge toward them menacingly. Then the glass on Chakotay's flashlight shattered, along with the bulb. The pair was consumed in darkness.

=/\=

Sweat stains darkened Captain Janeway's shirt under her arms and along the neckline. But still she waved off the Jaffen when he tried to pick up Seven's makeshift litter. "I'll carry her," she said.

"But this woman is probably heavy, given her Borg components," he said.

Kathryn knew she was being unreasonable. She worked her jaw slightly, thinking about what it would mean to expend so much of her energy to carry Seven of Nine. It would cost her dearly, she knew. But dammit all to hell, she wanted to do this for her. She had been helpless when Justin and her father died on Tau Ceti Prime.

Her head jerked when she felt hot hands touch her own." Mark was using his gentle voice and his gentle hands and it had its desired effect.

Her eyes misted as she looked at the man who once upon a time would have been her husband. "I know you're used to doing it all. Lord, I know it well!" He smiled at the faint amusement in her eyes. "But let us help you, Kathryn. We must be here for a reason."

Kathryn knew that if they were going to survive this—all of them, including Seven—then she was going to have to save her strength. She inhaled deeply and then finally nodded, releasing his hands to step back.

As Mark and Jaffen each bracketed Seven's litter, facing the same direction, they hoisted her up with a big heave. As both men grunted, there was a sneer from behind Kathryn.

"How quaint," Kashyk said. "But wouldn't it be more efficient to leave the dead Borg?"

Kathryn's face hardened to gleaming ablative armor. "She's not dead and we'd do the same for you."

"In either case, it would be a waste," he said derisively.

"That's easy to say when you aren't the one lying here," Mark added with a grunt.

Kathryn adjusted the canteens she'd kept from the deceased Malons, grateful that the meager supplies had been replenished. "Let's move. Those mountains aren't far. Once there, we'll get the lay of the land. Hopefully we can find water and see the rest of the crew."

Kashyk squinted at the mountains through the small clearing of trees. The growling dog a few meters from him caught the Devore officer's attention. His trepidation was short lived when two voices—Kathryn's and Mark's—shouted simultaneously: "Molly! Come!"

Mark captured Kathryn's gaze in a moment of mutuality, as the Irish setter fell into step beside him. He smiled and the pain of losing him seemed to loosen the grip of her heart. It was replaced by something else: the knowledge that she still loved him.

Speeding up, she jogged to the front and away from his discerning eyes. "Q!" she said as a curse. _What an awful revelation_, she thought morosely.

=/\=

Dani marched into the dimly lit hangar bay. The gaping hole they'd been forced to blast on an earlier mission to recover deuterium sparkled from the low-grade containment field that surrounded it. She pulled her eyes away from the necessary destruction to smile at Mezoti.

_Damn, she looks good in a Starfleet uniform_, she thought wistfully. She chided herself silently for even thinking about that at time like this. So she reluctantly tore her eyes from the straight young woman. In any event, she had partnered up with Icheb.

"The shuttle's been checked?" she asked Miral, their present engineer and the daughter of the Engineering Chief, who was presumably on the moon's surface.

"Checked and rechecked, Captain," she said.

Dani smacked Miral's uniformed shoulder. "Do you have any questions about your goals?"

Mezoti brought herself to attention as she recounted the plan for the dangerous mission to the moon's surface. "We will burn thrusters for exactly six-point-nine seconds, allowing the Delta Flyer to skim to the surface of the moon undetected by the alien's powerful tractors. Our coordinates will place us near the northern pole, where a key shield generator powers the moon's entire network of deflector shielding."

Miral nodded, as if signaling she would complete the mission review. "We'll disable the shield generator through any means necessary, thus disabling the transporter dampening device."

"And disrupt their tractor beam long enough to get the hell out of here—but not before transporting our people home," Dani added.

Both girls nodded in agreement.

"My only other order is for you to return to the ship as soon as you can," Dani said.

"We shall endeavor," Mezoti said, drawing a half smile from the new Captain.

"Inform the bridge upon final approach," Dani added as the two boarded the Delta Flyer.

"Aye, Captain," Mezoti said, before closing the aft entry hatch.

Dani still didn't like the sound of that. It was giving her an endless headache.


	9. Blood Dimmed Tide

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long! Writers block is a b**! Hopefully you haven't lost interest. Thanks for all the reviews and to LadyDragonRider for all the encouraging notes and inquiries.

**Living Daylights**

Chapter 8: Blood-dimmed Tide

There was no mistaking a Starfleet bridge. The neutral gray and the pristine decking were rarely imitated. _Efficient_, Seven thought as she pivoted around to see her new surroundings. Starfleet officers bustled about their stations, calling out the ship's status to an on-duty commander.

Seven however recognized this as no ordinary bridge. Unlike the customary circular configurations all oriented toward a main viewer, this one was a perfect equilateral triangular with three descending levels of consoles with the command chair at the apex.

As she walked among the consoles, she found it curious that there was no main viewer that she could locate on the bridge. The consoles fluid with sleeker aerodynamic lines than Voyager's, which had been considered top of the line 14 years ago.

Seven stopped in front of an unmanned console. It was blank, like an ordinary desk with no configurations—or interface of any kind—that she had ever seen. She ran her hand over the console, surprised she felt neither any access nor control functions.

"What is this ship's designation?" she asked over her shoulder to the omnipotent creature that has kidnapped her persona from a small moon on a far-flung system where Voyager was marooned and the crew prisoners.

To her surprise, Q answered. "The U.S.S. Maathai."

Seven flicked a brow at the undisguised tedium in his voice.

"The Maathai's schematics are not available in my database," she stated neutrally.

"It's because you're not all-knowing like me," he said with a condescending smirk.

Seven narrowed her eyes for a moment but before she could respond she heard the door slide open behind her. Starfleet officers entered, filing purposefully toward their stations and relieving their shipmates at the end of a duty shift. For the first time, Seven zeroed in on their uniforms, which were a Starfleet style Seven had never seen before. They were the familiar fitted black. But the tunic shoulders were quilted gray, leaving the undershirt to signify division colors. The three officers present were from the Operations, Security and Science divisions, if their color designations remained unchanged.

More personnel entered as the first three began to tap at the consoles. Seven's attention was drawn toward their work. Instead of workstation monitors embedded in the console, the workstation controls were projected into a three-dimensional plane above it.

The officers' fingers punched and waved in practiced configurations, blurring the projections. But the distortions did not slow them down.

Seven bent closer to a console, running her Borg appendage along its surface.

Q hiked a thigh up on the console, resting it there. "Is that how the Borg initiate foreplay?" he asked with a wink. "Because if it is—"

Seven's only reaction was to stop her hand momentarily before continuing her inspection. "I am trying to determine the source of the projections—"

"How eager," he said with a tone that expressed his contempt rather than his admiration.

As Seven tried to ignore Q, the door slid open again. In marched a slim woman wearing Command red, with four golden pips gleaming at her collar. The Maathai's captain had short ice blonde hair that parted to one side and slicked back to short spiky ducktails. Near the middle of her forehead, a streak of raven black slashed back from one temple.

Like any good starship captain, she seemed able to lower the temperature of the room with each clear and sure order. She lowered herself carefully into the command console at the apex of the bridge, glancing down to see blue text dance amid bars of red stream along in front of her field of vision.

Seven's breath caught when she saw a tall, auburn-haired Eridani Janeway enter. She sported a civilian's jump suit of shimmering blue with the Greek letter Omega twined with a red galactic E and X. She was immediately followed by three others, two women and a man, dressed in similar manner. Eridani pressed a link at her left wrist and the unmanned console that Seven had been studying surged to life. The control projection blipped on. Data streams began to parade across a red grid as Eridani tucked the bobbed hair behind an ear and leaned over the station.

The three others stood behind the Starfleet officers who manned the Flight Control, Ops and Mission Ops consoles.

"Kathryn would be disappointed to know that Eridani is not in Starfleet," Seven whispered.

"She should be grateful!" Q bellowed. "What is Starfleet, after all, but a mob of mindless drones?"

"Kathryn was not a drone," Seven replied.

"You're biased," Q chided gently. He uncrossed his arms and allowed affection to creep into his tones. "But I'd have to agree. Kathy is one of the few true intellectuals…." Q turned to look at Eridani when she addressed the Captain. "In any event, this subunit—as you so charmingly call her—is following in _your_ footsteps."

"Mine?"

"Yes, of course. You founded Omega Engineering Exchange."

Seven repeated the name, as if tasting it for the first time. "What was its purpose?" she finally asked.

"Oh, this and that," he said vaguely with a flick of his hand. "In this capacity, Eridani is leading an interesting little experiment."

His lack of sarcasm drew Seven's attention to him. She studied his face, trying to find more clues. The other timelines they had visited had been conspicuously twisted. That she could not readily identify the deviation in this timeline generated warning klaxons inside of the heart of Seven the Mother.

Her daughter's name spoken by the Maathai's captain brought her back from her reverie. "Eridani Janeway," the Captain said by way of greeting.

"Captain Powers," Eridani replied evenly, offering a hand. "It's a pleasure to work with you again."

The Captain stood, rangy and nearly as tall as Seven's daughter. She glanced down momentarily before taking the offered hand. "How is Admiral Janeway?"

An instant of grief flashed across Eridani's face before she repressed it. "AJ is..." Eridani pursed her lips before finishing. "Retirement doesn't agree with her."

A genuine warmth passed between the two before the Captain shook it off. "I'm sorry to hear that," she whispered. But Captain Powers' face hardened as she tugged her tunic down and stepped away from the command chair. "Before we begin, I'd like it noted for the record in your official log that 75 of my crew, including myself, have filed formal protests with Starfleet Command."

"Grounds?" Eridani said. It was so terse that Seven almost thought she had asked the question.

"We oppose any and all human experimentation."

"Human experimentation?" Seven said with an unBorg-like distress. She stepped close to her daughter, sizing her up with every Borg sense that she could muster.

Eridani turned slightly to give the Captain a careful eye, a side of her mouth quirked in a smirk. "So noted, Captain," she said.

The Captain punched the air, scrambling the images. "Attention, all hands. This is the captain. Operation: Integration will commence on schedule."

Seven flicked a brow as she watched the Captain. She pronounced the last word as if the "c" did not exist, similar to many on Voyager who hailed from islands off the Northern European Sector.

"This operation remains classified until further notice. Helm control is now surrendered."

Seven noted the razor-sharp edge to the last word. She glanced at her daughter, almost confounded by her mature face. But she still noted a twinkle of amusement at the Captain's clear dissension.

"Powers out." The Captain gestured to the command chair. "Give the ship a good airing," she ordered mildly.

"Thank you, Captain," Eridani said confidently. "OEX staff, take up your posts."

Reluctantly, the Starfleet personnel yielded their stations, casting disparaging glances at the OEX team as they dove into the 3-D consoles excitedly. When Seven turned back to Eridani, she sported a peculiar headset with a red beam projecting a crisp red beam directly onto the retina of her left eye from a metallic node behind her left ear.

Seven was trying to examine the node interlink visually, but her daughter would not remain still. Instead, she was traversing the bridge. "All systems are go," she barked.

"Confirmed," the OEX staff member, a petite Bajoran woman at Ops replied.

Eridani stopped, her eyes moving rapidly from side to side. "Vulcan Central Command sends their hugs and kisses," she said with a bit of irreverence. The Captain cleared her throat, but Eridani's eyes returned to the rapid side-to-side. "Coordinates laid in for Gamma Triangula."

"Confirmed," OEX Ops officer replied again.

The Captain frowned, glancing at a seemingly entranced head scientist of Omega Engineering Exchange. She turned to the OEX staff member at Ops. "Naith," the Captain said, "Does Janeway realize that Talos IV is quarantined by Starfleet Command? General Order 7—quarantined under penalty of death."

Naith's dark hair fluttered as she glanced at the Captain. "She does, Captain. Dani is well aware of Starfleet protocols and the ship's physical displacement parameters." Naith turned, her Bajoran earring tinkling slightly. "She herself is now the ship, remember?"

"How could I possibly forget?" The Captain said dourly, crossing her arms as she glanced at the far-away look in Eridani's eyes. "Just make sure we don't fly into Talosian air space."

"_I'll remember." _That was the ship's syrupy main computer voice but not its impersonal persona. The Captain shivered almost imperceptibly when she realized it was Eridani's consciousness speaking and not the ship.

Seven slipped her arms behind her back as she came to rest opposite the Captain, both women intent on Eridani's now seated figure.

"She taunts the captain," Seven said, even as she scrutinized her daughter's neurogenic interface.

"Can you blame her?" Q replied, stifling a yawn.

"_These space lanes promise relatively few travelers,"_ Dani said in the ship computer's voice without moving her lips.

The Captain glanced over Eridani's shoulders, reading the data streams as they danced across the open space above the conn. "Status?" Captain Powers barked.

"_It's my experiment, Captain."_

The Captain looked up under a scrawl of white eyebrows across her delicate features. Finally, she looked down at a seemingly motionless Janeway. "And my ship," she hissed back. "You'll bloody well remember _that_!"

The OEX staff member, the only man among them, punched some controls in the air, twisting the data stream as he did. His face was long, with a thin hollow dissecting his face. His name tag read "T'hor" "All systems are fully operational," he replied in a deeply burred accent.

"Flight?" the Captain called.

"We're at warp 9.75. All functions within normal parameters," replied another silver-haired OEX staff member.

The Captain inquired after the time index. "So isn't this enough?" Captain Powers finally asked. "She's controlled the ship—you've controlled it for nearly five minutes. I'd say that would be a categorical success in any report."

"_Other considerations."_

"Captain," one of the crewmembers called out to her. "Our speed is approaching Warp 9.85."

"Approaching the upper limit," Seven reported.

"Pft," Q said, with a flick of his wrist. "Warp _speed_—as you so optimistically call it—is a pathetic little crawl. Watching this experiment is like watching a gaggle of baboons pick bugs off their coats."

"Troop of baboons," Seven replied evenly.

"What?" Q asked, crinkling his nose.

"Gaggle of geese but troop of baboons," Seven said mildly, as she slipped her hands behind her back. She glanced down over Eridani's shoulder, as if to distract herself.

Q crossed his arms and raised himself to his full height. "Here comes the best part," he said, pointing a chin at Eridani. "Except she won't even see it coming."

Seven felt herself stiffen at the disgusting and quiet cackles of Q. Seven felt the adrenaline as it flooded her system on a signal from the most primitive part of her brain—one that she was powerless to control now. When she was completely Borg, she never had the Fight-or-Flight response. As a wife, she experienced it during an infrequent argument with Pips. But as a mother, the unwelcome adrenalin rush was nearly overwhelming. Seven felt herself teeter, but steadied her body against a console. Her eyes darted around, trying to quantify the scintilla of data that would give her the edge—though she knew her limitations.

"Dani, there is a ship on a vector course. Our heading," T'hor said.

"_Readings confirmed," _Dani replied through the computer's persona._ "But it's out of visual range."_

Standing behind Dani, Powers went ramrod straight. "Report?"

"They're gone," Naith replied. She was frantically trying to adjust the ship's sensors.

"_Not gone,"_ Dani said. _"Cloaked."_

"Scan for Klingon or Romulan ship signatures," Powers ordered.

"_A Nausicaan raider has decloaked off the starboard,"_ Dani said.

"Red alert!" Powers ordered.

"They're powering weapons," Naith said, alarm making her voice shrill.

"Shields!" Powers barked, even as Dani's computerized voice said it.

"Shields up," the silver-haired OEX woman replied.

"Reduce speed!" Powers ordered irritation thick in her voice.

Dani's eyes shifted relentlessly. _"Speed re—all hands, brace for impact!"_

Even before she finished, the Maathai shuddered from multiple phaser shots. Several consoles on the bridge popped, amber sparks bursting across the deck.

"Arm torpedoes," Powers ordered.

"Torpedoes armed and locked on 185 degrees mark 4," said a Starfleet officer at the Security station.

"Incoming!" Naith shouted.

Powers gripped the console. Naith and the silver-haired OEX staffer were blown back when their console exploded. Seven tried to steady herself on a bulkhead, but it was a useless effort as she felt neither the quaking of the ship nor even the slightest touch of inertia.

"You aren't here," Q whispered with a laugh.

She gave him her most withering look, which served only to incite a full-throated belly laugh.

"Fire all phasers," Powers ordered. "Damage report."

As members of her crew were barking out the number of dead and a deck by deck damage report, Dani replied in the computer's monotone persona: _"Firing all phasers—weapons are offline. Warp drive's been knocked out."_

"By a bloody _raider_?" Powers asked incredulously.

Just then, fifteen more raiders uncloaked. They looked like gnats beside the two Breen warships that uncloaked. The angular hull of the Breen warships bristled with weapons.

"The Breen vessels are building a power surge, Captain," said a Starfleet officer taking over at Ops. A high-pitched scream accompanied the surge.

"Is that sound related to the power surge," the Captain asked.

"_They're firing!—"_

"_All power to shields!"_ Powers and Eridani shouted in unison.

A blue forked energy beam shot out of the two Breen vessels from the forward array. It struck the Maathai, easily piercing what remained of the shields. On the bridge, the blue energy could be seen jumping across severed cables and traveling in a concentric circle until—

It enveloped Eridani Janeway, who cried out. During the throws of convulsions racking her body, the energy even tinted her teeth blue. She fell forward, caught by the light-footed captain. "Dani," she whispered, lowering her to the conn. She felt her pulse and listened for breathing. Then she began to gently slap Dani's face. "Dani," she repeated.

Eridani shook her head, momentarily disoriented by where she was. The Captain helped her to her feet.

"Captain, incoming message," the security officer said.

"From the Breen?" she asked, still attending to Dani even as T'hor stepped close to assist her.

"Negative," the Security officer replied. "Nausicaan."

"Of course," she whispered, nodding to T'hor once when he resumed what little first aid he could provide. She tugged her tunic down and stood up. "Polarize forward viewscreen."

Specks of light began to cascade all around her providing a nearly three-dimensional image for each section of the bridge. The Nausicaan face formed from cascading electrons. His long, black hair forming first, followed by his vacuous nasal cavity and then the rest of him. "Captain," he said. "Your unconditional surrender will cease hostilities."

Powers studied him for a moment, her expression a blank slate. "I did not realize the Federation was at war with the Nausicaan Nation?"

A hideous smile revealed sharp Nausicaan teeth. "This experiment…" The Nausicaan captain nodded toward the recovering Eridani Janeway. "It ends now," he growled.

Her bluff was called and she gave the appearance of resignation. "Quite right," she said. "I can assure you that I'll see to it."

Instead of replying, the bridge was bathed in soft, sparkling lights followed by the appearance of four Nausicaans. "We'll assure ourselves!" a Nausicaan growled. Four blasts arced through the air, each striking Eridani Janeway. Convulsions seized her entire body. The Nausicaans dematerialized just as quickly, just before Starfleet phasers blasted that the space they'd once occupied.

Seven tried to reach out to Eridani as she collapsed near the conn. Seven firmed bit her jaw in frustration when she clasped nothing but thin air. She watched helplessly as Powers ordered a site-to-site transport to sick bay while the OEX officer knelt over the prone figure of her daughter, touching two fingers to a pulse point at her neck.

"Transporters are down," the Security Officer informed her.

Powers waved T'hor away from the prone figure, crumpled on the floor. Blood poured out of her nose and left ear. "Make way," she shouted out. "She's going to sick bay one way or another."

Powers made to lift her, but T'hor caught her shoulder.

"Captain," T'hor whispered. "She's gone."

Seven watched silently as Powers disappeared behind the turbolift door, still attempting to carry Eridani to sick bay. Seven stared at the door, unblinking and unbreathing for a long moment. Only when her lungs betrayed her did she resume respiration. What would she give to change any of these timelines? _My life,_ she thought. _Yes, my life three times over._ She turned to Q, ignoring the amusement on his omnipotent face. "Take me instead."

Q, who had appeared about to make some crude commentary, seemed taken aback. "What?"

"I am offering my life to change the course of time—for all three—Kathryn's, Shannon Astrid and Eridani."

Q fell a full step back. "Do I look like the Grim Reaper to you?"

"I do not understand the reference?" she stated in a small voice.

"These moments I've shown you are pivot points—fixed points, if you will—that cannot be merely altered by me," he said impatiently. "But even if I could, why should I?"

She stared at him, his usual callousness not able to silence the clamor of her breaking heart. "Then you have succeeded. I am bereft of everyone I held dear."

"Oh, Seven, you silly Borg, that's not what I was after."

Seven narrowed her lips, her nostrils flaring. "Then what?"

"You wanted Captain Janeway," he said with a derisive tone. He even shrugged his shoulders for emphasis. "I wanted you to experience the ramifications for yourself. Mortality—and love—have an ugly side. Now you've seen it."

Seven considered for a moment, pressing a palm to try to ignore the distressful sensations in her cardiac muscle. It was not her love nor her pain that motivated Q's little temper, it was his own. If she was going to make it back to Kathryn, she was going to have to be convincing. It would not be difficult.

"Q, this pain I feel," Seven's voice was cracking. "It is merely human…."

"Go on," he said with a haughty life of his chin.

"It is finite and shall cease soon. But yours is infinite, as you are. I cannot understand the pain of your loss of Kathryn. I am sorry."

He nodded once, snapped his fingers and they disappeared from the shambled wreck of the bridge of the U.S.S. Maathai.

=/\=

Captain Janeway collapsed near the foot of the mountain, just as she and her past and almost lovers ran the last 800 meters because of the shimmering promise of water. It was all a cruel taunt. What they spied had been the shimmering yellow liquid of sulfur that was bubbling from an overheated core of the moon. It had been rimmed in salt. To the parched and nearly delirious group, it had been their last hope.

Janeway's head was covered by the heavy tunic, now coated in fine gray dust. The exposed forehead, high cheeks and lips were cracked and peeling. The once blue undershirt was ringed in sweat. Despite every cell in her body crying out for rest, Janeway used her elbows to crawl belly-down to the still unconscious form of her spouse, where her former fiancé Mark Johnson and former lover Jaffen had set her down before themselves falling prey to the hopelessness.

Janeway marveled at the seemingly sleeping figure of Seven of Nine. She looked radiant, her skin beautifully bronzed and unmarred by the harsh reality of this moon. "Seven," she croaked through a desiccated throat. "Where are you?"

Only when Mark spoke did Janeway realize he'd been watching the tender moment. "She's quite lovely," he said. "Despite the…ah…the—she's quite lovely." He was sitting with knees bent, gently stroking the head of the Irish Setter who was panting furiously beside him. "How is it that she's not burned to a crisp like the rest of us?"

Janeway's face softened as her eyes caressed the perfect pink lips. "She's Borg," she whispered. "Maybe that has something to do with it."

"Borg," he said with trepidation.

Janeway ignored what she heard in his voice, instead choosing to have a physical connection to her by running darkened hand over Seven's bald pate. "She did this," she said after a long moment of silence. "Shaved her head in response to my own aging distress."

"Aging distress?" he whispered again, after trying to swallow for a several moments.

"I'm 12 years her senior—as if you hadn't noticed," she chided gently.

"Actually, I hadn't."

She gave her former lover a travesty of crooked smile, but decided not to comment on his own young lover—wife or whatever the hell she became. She knew these thoughts were to keep her from feeling the surging of grief that was building up. "I never, never ever thought she'd leave me," she said, batting angrily at tears that were unable to fall. "I thought I'd be the one to go—to die first. So I concerned myself with trivial things like concealing my gray hair." Janeway lovingly rubbed her thumb across a blonde eyebrow. "I even went so far as to apply disgusting concoctions to my face." She looked up at Mark, whose brown eyes were so warm and intent on her. "If you knew Mr. Neelix and his delight in gastronomic genocide, you'd understand the absurd lengths I'd gone to look younger—at least for a little while."

"You love her," he said finally.

She smiled as she dropped her thumb to the flawless pink lips. "I do and I never thought for once that we wouldn't make it home—even after 14 years."

"Are you giving up then?"

Janeway struggled to pull herself up to sitting. Mark always had a way of forcing her to examine her own motivations, even when she didn't particularly want to—like now. Janeway knew from experience it was best done in a proactive posture. She looked around them. Jaffen was crouching, as he stared at the bubbling acid, just out of reach of the noxious fumes. Kashyk was standing not far behind him, a furious look darkening his handsome face. His arms were crossed and he remained in a military stance, despite the overwhelming heat.

"We've got two children," she whispered, her eyes still scanning the plain and the craggy face of the mountain before them.

"I have a son," he said. "He's seven."

Janeway caught her breath. Mark Johnson wasn't some clone or some animated being that Q had created. Perhaps he really was the very man himself—husband to another and father. She softened her expression at the thought of him as a parent. "What's his name?"

"John-Thomas Hobbes Johnson."

"Do you call him Hobbes?"

He shook his head, with a chuckle. "Oh, no, I'd not wish that on anyone. We call him John-Thomas. His name is bigger than he is at this point." His smile subsided into a painful grimace when he seemed to remember where he was.

Taking a deep breath, Janeway pushed herself up to standing, nearly teetering over. But Mark provided the helpful shoulder with Molly the dog by his side.

"We'll have to get our kids together—when we get home then," she said, cupping a hand over an eye to study the gravelly mountain. It held dozens of caves, all man-made formations, as well as the remnants of dead, twisted trees, sentinels of destruction.

"So this isn't the end of the road?" he asked with a hint of teasing.

"Hell no," she shot back. When she bent down to lift one side of Seven's litter, he gathered the other. "The caves in that mountain are calling, Mr. Johnson."

But not all of the group were energized. "What an irrational choice," Kashyk noted.

"I suppose the Devore don't believe in hunches," Janeway asked, trying to keep her mind off of the screaming muscles of her legs and arms.

"We believe in warships and the iron-clad rule of law."

"Not much use to you here then," Jaffen said mildly, earning an appreciative nod from Kathryn.

Kashyk curled his lips at Jaffen, nearly running into Mark when Janeway stopped at the foothills. "I can see how you ended up with a woman, of all _things_," he sneered.

Janeway glared, urging herself not to rise to the bait. _I have to keep my focus._ _But damn he makes it hard, _she thought.

"These men are hardly that," he sniffed. Mark laughed at the jibe while Jaffen appeared to take great offense.

"I see movement by those caves," she said, quelling the boiling fury inside of her.

"I do, too," Mark said, setting his end of the litter down to wipe his sopping brow.

Then she heard it—the faintest echo. "Captain!"

Janeway nearly cried out to see a scarf-wrapped Tuvok, advancing from the sweltering mountain. She wanted to kiss the man and wouldn't that send ripples through her little stable of studs? But more than it all, she wanted Seven of Nine.

Tuvok unwrapped his face covering, letting the dark fabric, obviously made from old Starfleet tunics hung loosely off his shoulder. "Captain," Tuvok said, without panting from the exertion in the oppressive heat. "I am gratified you are…" He paused to regard those behind her.

"That bad, huh?" She brushed the sweat at her forehead, grimacing at the tenderness she found there. "Well, I'm happy to see you, Tuvok."

He looked briefly at the unconsciousness Borg and then each of the men. His face decidedly hardened when his dark eyes met Kashyk.

"I'm happy to see you, too," Kashyk said acidly.

Commander Tuvok ignored the jibe and gestured to the lowest cave. "We have water—foul tasting but refreshing nonetheless."

"Maybe our day is looking up," she called to Mark, who leaned over to pick up Seven. Tuvok replaced the Captain at the head of the litter, earning a grateful but weak nod.

"Now if we only had a grill and a few thousand burgers," Mark said wryly.

Janeway finally laughed. "Don't forget the beer," she said. "And the pool."

=/\=

The breeze from inside the dark cave was at least ten degrees cooler than the plain outside. It was a difference of open combustion versus a mere, slow roast, but Janeway preferred these odds much better. As she stepped in, Tuvok ordered water while what was left of her crew offered weak greetings amid coughs and moans. Lt. B'Elanna Torres rounded a corner of the cave wall, holding a rounded rock, which she offered to Captain Janeway. "Hello, Captain," she said.

"Hello, Lieutenant," Janeway said, lifting the make-shift saucer in thanks. She took a small sip and began to choke.

"It's stout stuff," B'Elanna said with a snort. "But filled with nourishing amino acids."

Janeway sniffed carefully. "It smells like…decomposing leaves."

"Mmm-mmm, decomposing something, I'd say."

Janeway suppressed the gag reflex and took another swig, trying not to fill her belly too quickly after listening to Kashyk down his own water and then run outside to vomit. She forced it down before ending in another coughing fit. After wiping her mouth with her dusty sleeve, she lifted the concave rock. "To the ancestors!" she said. "I'd always wondered how the earlier explorers did it without the bells and whistles we have."

"We'll soon find out," B'Elanna replied.

"The situations are not comparable," Tuvok replied. "While we are lacking in basic equipment and tools, our knowledge of science far exceeds theirs."

"Is that the Vulcan way of telling us we whine too much?" B'Elanna asked.

Tuvok arched a brow. "This is no time for levity," he replied.

"Never underestimate the power of laughter, Mister Tuvok," Janeway said, before braving the last of the water.

As the trio walked on, Janeway's eyes adjusted to the dark quarters of the caves.

She could see that many of the crewmen were leaning against the cave wall, headless of the jagged points burrowing into their backs. Their faces were burned crispy and still they shivered, huddling by the fire. "What is the casualty report?" Janeway asked.

"There are still 75 crewmembers unaccounted for," Tuvok said.

"Except for the children," B'Elanna added.

"No children have been recovered," he agreed.

"Then we can assume they are marooned," Janeway replied.

"I prefer that hypothesis," he added.

Janeway nodded. "So do I. But what of the others?"

"Of the remaining, many were injured during robbery attempts by other races who are also marooned. But most are experiencing the effects of sickness. These have marked fevers."

"Is it a disease?" she croaked, as her eyes took in the dozens of men and women in the cave.

"Some of the crew were unfortunate to be deposited in a vast desert just the other side of this mountain," he said. "We've had recon teams watching for our crew or anyone who needs assistance. Some may not have made it otherwise."

Janeway nodding, understanding the extremes of the environment. If she closed her eyes, she could feel the burn of this blue sun, its luminosity was _ten million_ times greater than Earth's sun, even at sun down. It didn't help that the gas giant planet reflected the sun's rays. The planet was fifty times larger than Earth's moon all adding up to heat upon hellish heat.

"Seven and I were lucky then to find a deep valley," she said, squinting to discern the depths of the cavern. "Are these the 75 then?"

"No," he said gravely. "There are many more in far more serious conditions."

She shook her head at the barely moving crew. This was not intensive care, as she'd suspected. "What are the conditions of the others?"

"They vary," Tuvok said stoically.

"The Delaney sisters are experiencing hallucinations from the severe dehydration," B'Elanna added.

"The water isn't helping?" she asked.

"Their situation has deteriorated to the point that they can barely keep any sustenance down," she said.

"Any sign of Neelix?" Janeway asked.

"As a matter of fact…"

Just then Neelix' ever-cheerful voice echoed through the cave. He was dispensing water to a crewmember with a makeshift pail and scoop. "Just pretend this is my delicious mussel soup," he said, tut-tutting the moans of the crewmember as if he were gently chiding a child.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to revel in one moment of relief. "Q," she finally said. "He'd—"

"Yes, Mr. Neelix has briefed us on Q's interference," Tuvok said.

"Are the others here, as well?"

"Yes, the other Talaxians have been most helpful with understanding the system of rewards with the aliens. We've managed some food as a result." He gestured toward the center of the cave. "This way, Captain."

"What of…?" She turned to find that Seven's litter had vanished. "Where's Seven?" The echo allowed her to hear her own alarm, never a good thing for a captain.

"Captain Janeway," B'Elanna said, offering the comfort of a shoulder pat. "Seven of Nine is resting inside a deeper, cooler cave. She is safe."

Only when she'd centered her awareness that she was talking to Tuvok and B'Elanna and not to some apparition or worse, to Q, did she finally accept their words. "It's been a long trip," she said.

"As I was saying, we have some food here," Tuvok said.

"What of the Vashkoi King?"

Tuvok pursed his lips. _For being a Vulcan, his emotions were sometimes an open book,_ Janeway thought, still studying the man.

Tuvok indicated another passageway. "He remains in the coolest part of the caves, tending to the sick—"

"The only damn 'task' that man would accept," B'Elanna said with a deep Klingon growl for good measure.

Tuvok gestured toward the torch lit entrance of a cave. "In fairness to a man with few, if any, vocational skills, he is tending the sick admirably," he said.

Her face lost some of its tension then and she shrugged. Janeway stopped at the door, her head tipping to one side to catch the light dancing along the lanky form of the still-cataleptic Borg. Yes, her chest rose and fell with every breath. But she was inanimate, as if the puppeteer had set aside the puppet.

"May I remind you, Captain, that Q has been known to be reasonable."

"A reasonable entity doesn't move sentient beings around against their will," she hissed. The echo brought her harsh tone back to her ear and she paused, finally hearing the heaviness of her own breath. "I'm sorry, Tuvok," she whispered.

"There is nothing to apologize for, Captain—"

"But there is, my friend. I wonder if I'm losing my grip on reality."

"You have just crossed a desert expanse without much water," he stated reasonably. "It is entirely conceivable that even you may require at least _some_ rest and sustenance before tackling the Q question."

"And these aliens…" she gestured blindly around her.

"The aliens," Tuvok echoed, his voice thick with surly disapproval.

"The _damned_ aliens," B'Elanna added viciously.

"Have you been able to communicate with them at all?" she asked, her voice rising in hope.

Tuvok briefed Captain Janeway on the mission (clarified by B'Elanna Torres as the foolish mission) that Commander Chakotay and Lt. Paris had endeavored aboard the alien vessel during one of their regular landings.

"How long ago?" she asked.

"Approximately two hours ago," he said.

"Damn," she whispered. "What else could possibly go wrong?"

Before the Captain could even take a moment to sit down, she heard Lt. Kim's shouts. "Commander Tuvok!" The two turned to see him with a black streak across his cheek and forehead. "Captain!" he reached out and grabbed her bicep. "Borg are approaching!"


	10. Ceremony of Innocence

**Living Daylights**

Chapter 9: Ceremony of Innocence

"Borg?" Captain Kathryn Janeway hissed. She turned slightly, fists finding her hips. "What _the hell_ are they doing here?"

"That's what we get for whining," B'Elanna replied, as she slumped against a nearby boulder. She quickly moved away when it began to burn her back.

Janeway had been the one to promote the idea of making light of a dire situation. Starfleet Academy officer training emphasized the dangers of overwork, not only to the mission but to lives. _And dammit, I'm not going to lose any more people, she snarled in her mind. _Janeway stepped away from her three officers, all standing near the mouth of the cave on a mountainside. A finger and thumb pinched the bridge of her nose as she walked in a small circle.

Meanwhile, Lt. Harry Kim was still sucking wind, as he tried to wet his whistle enough to speak. "I'm not sure," he wheezed, "but I'd say they look a little _disorganized_."

She stopped pacing again to study the man. Harry Kim, considerably more tanned, had torn off the hem of one of his trouser pant legs to tie a bandana around his forehead. With the scars he'd acquired on his journey, he looked positively roguish, rather than boyish as she remembered on the first day of taking command of Voyager.

Janeway stopped and narrowed her eyes at him. She exchanged grave looks with Commander Tuvok before re-starting her small circuit. "Did you scan any Borg cubes in the vicinity when we came out of the light jump?" Janeway asked, her mind trying to grab any information that could help.

"No, Captain," he said. "Just the debris field."

Janeway arched a brow and frowned. "It's as if they were hijacked, too," she mused, glancing at the sweltering blue light pounding the cave's opening and the entire moon with unrelenting heat.

Mr. Kim gestured to eastward, toward a vast desert in the opposite direction Janeway and her team had come. "You can make them out, if you squint," he said.

The three stepped to the edge, just inside the shade as Harry pointed to several gray dots appearing to approach the position. The three narrowed their eyes against the glare. A small troop of Borg drones marching toward them managed to kick up an enormous plume of dust in their wake.

"That's them," he said.

"You got a closer look, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I was stationed just there about a few meters from that outcrop of rocks they are just passing," he said. "I ran the entire way back."

Janeway looked out to watch the relentless trail of dust. "Are there any Borg that you…" Janeway faced him, a look of sorrow etching itself there. "…_recognize_?"

"No, ma'am," he said.

Janeway breathed a sigh, as they all did. Janeway faced east and, from the warmth and the strange blue hue, she guessed that the Blue Sun was about to rise again. "Tuvok, security is our top priority. B'Elanna, we need some way to get the water to us further down near the mouths of the caves. And we need more food...without the ridiculous slavery that our friends from the gas giant want."

"Aye, Captain" was the singular response.

"Harry, we need more recon teams. No one injured can serve there—which I know will exclude most of us. We need fast runners and quick climbers. And we need to make sure they get enough water. See to it."

He nodded and turned to leave with the others, but she stopped them. "And I'd say you should get something to drink, too."

Suddenly, he wavered and Janeway caught him. "Let me help you," she said. She slipped an arm into his and they walked shoulder to shoulder deeper into the cave, where the small, muddy stream bubbled up from some remnant of an underground spring.

"Thank you, Captain," he said a little sheepish.

They walked in silence, listening to the din of those around them. Some were asking Neelix for water, while others were grunting as they tried to stretch and stand. They both tensed when they past two crewmembers weeping together over their children.

"Do you think they're okay—the children, I mean?" Harry asked.

Janeway walked for a few steps before answering. "Yes," she finally replied with her signature sense of confidence. "Our children are scrappy, their resilient. We've trained them well."

"And their tough," he said.

"Absolutely," she said. "Like us."

They shared a small look and then continued on in silence. Janeway knew she'd arrived at the stream when the tang of muddy waters hit her. She rolled up her sleeves and knelt to cup some water in her hands, even as she sensed that Harry did the same beside her.

After a few moments of unsatisfying consumption, they both stood, wiping their face with the dirty sleeves of their undershirts. "Captain," he said, affecting a deep voice that echoed in the dimly lit cave. He grinned as she tried to wipe the grit of the water from her palm. "How was your water here in the Blue Star Burn?"

"Blue Star Burn?" she repeated, unsure.

"Yeah, it's our pub, after all," he said, raising his hands and gesturing around. "All the ambience of hell…."

Janeway glanced around, the shadows dancing off the stream. The trickle echoed so serenely. But it belied the sense of desperation she felt all around her from the unspoken grief of lost children to the dismal finality of their situation.

"That was a joke, Captain," he finally said.

She straightened herself and tugged at her undershirt, where the sweat pasted it against her chest. "It will be, Mr. Kim," she said. "When we are all safely home."

=/\=

Dani Janeway watched quietly as Mezoti and Miral Paris performed a systems check on the Delta Flyer. This was would be Mezoti's second mission under Dani's command, the first being the collection of deuterium and rescue of children from a Talaxian freighter.

As was usually the case, the Vashkoi heir, Merkit Devero, was never far behind Dani. She stood behind Dani, with her arms cross and her brows angrily scrawled above narrowed eyes. Dani tried to ignore the jealousy. Instead, she tried to focus on the beauty of Mezoti' intensity.

Mezoti scanned the main controls and to Miral asked: "Guidance matrix?"

Miral's caramel-colored hand danced along the controls at the Ops station. "Guidance matrix, check."

"Aft parabolic thrusters"

"Aft parabolic thrusters, check."

Had it been a dreary lesson, Dani imagine that she would be making jokes at this point about the tedium of Starfleet protocols. But as Captain, Dani was just as interested in the check of each and every system from sensor feed to resonance emitters and phaser coils. This wasn't a hypothetical situation anymore. The lives of her friends depended on the integrity of these systems.

When the system check was complete, Mezoti informed Captain Janeway, who nodded. "Do you have any questions about your mission?" she asked the two teenagers.

"I have an eidetic memory," Mezoti informed the Captain needlessly.

Being Starfleet-bred, Miral Paris knew what was really being asked. "Yes, Captain. We are going to use minimal life-support, with minimal thrusters to coast to the north polar region to disrupt the key lunar shielding. The goal is to beam our people home, or at the very least establish communications with surface crew."

"Don't forget the part about getting back safely," Dani said, uncrossing her arms and striding to the shuttle exit. "And that's an order."

Mezoti and Miral nodded. "Aye, Captain," they said in unison.

Dani swept her gaze through the Delta Flyer just to reassure herself and then sized up the two new Lieutenants. "Godspeed," she said, hearing an echo of her mother in the words.

She watched the Delta Flyer pierce the ships shielding. The thrusters blazed once and then cooled, gently gliding the shuttle off and away. She stood there until it was out of sight.

"You should have gone," Merkit hissed.

Dani rolled her eyes. "I was wondering when you were going to pipe in," she said, performing a perfect Starfleet about face to head back to the bridge.

"I do not _pipe_," the woman growled caustically.

Dani bit down hard on her molars and promised herself right then that she'd live the life of a celibate. _No women. Ever. It just wasn't worth the hassle._

=/\=

In one of the deepest and coolest caves on the moon, Seven of Nine opened her eyes. Though it took her human eye quite a while to become accustomed to the low light, her Borg-eye was able to make out other beings. Some were lying down, as she was. Their heat signature said some were feverish. But none were self-important, omnipotent beings with little regard for others and she was relieved.

She recognized some of their voices nearly instantly and knew she was among friends. But she did become alarmed that none were Kathryn Janeway. She sat up abruptly, drawing the attention of someone close by.

"Ah, sweet woman," the man purred. "The most beautiful one has finally awakened."

He shoved a small stone cup under her nose. "This will roust you," he said. "I am sorry I cannot offer you something that would befit you."

She took the cup, sensing it as water, a taste confirmed by her Borg-enhanced systems—though it was not the purest sort. "Where am I?" she asked. Even such few words signaled pain. She hadn't had the opportunity to drink in at nearly 36 hours, if her internal sensors were to be believed.

"On a far-flung moon and in a cool cave," he said caressing her arm. "Among friends."

Her Borg sensors indicated the cave was 37 degrees Celsius. "It is not that cool."

"Ah, but it is compared to the oppressive heat outside. My royal shoes almost boiled off."

She looked down to see the illumination of the few torches dancing off of the curled points of his silk-like slippers. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"I'm King Conail the XI of the Vashkoi."

"Ah," she said, not feeling any need to disclose her own identity.

As Seven of Nine ate some of the meager rations available to her and drank more of the musty water to gain her strength, she allowed King Conail to make small talk. He spoke of his small planet and their need for a strong leader; of his life in the palace and how he had taken it for granted; of the alliance with the neighboring Treveti and how their truce had lasted millennia; and of his lost heir.

The last moved Seven, after having just witnessed the death of her eldest child—in a timeline that had not yet happened. But some experiences that searing regardless of time displacements. "I am aggrieved for your loss," Seven replied.

After a long moment of silence, King Conail openly regarded Seven's more tangible assets. "You are a beautiful…What are you, anyway?" he asked peremptorily.

"I am a Borg female."

"By Tor's eye, I know them! I know 239, in fact."

"Your sisters?" Seven asked impudently.

"Bah! They are my wives. You could round out the bunch—the most beautiful one by far!"

Seven arched a brow as they walked. "You are asking me to be the two hundred and fortieth wife?"

"No," he said. "I am asking you to be the two hundred and fortieth _Queen_."

Seven shook her head. "That would constitute a spectacular demotion. In any event, I do not love you or do I do desire to be a queen."

"But you are Borg," he said. "The highest aspiration of a drone is to be a queen."

"Not mine," she said curtly. She raised her cup again but stopped. "In any case, do you not have an overabundant number of wives?"

He seemed to be shocked by her apparent lack of interest. "You would not _dislike_ being one of nearly three hundred."

"Incorrect," she stated evenly. "I dislike being one of two."

The King's shoulders sagged. "Then you are married? And you are a second wife?"

"I am," she said. "Though in all fairness, the first wife is inanimate."

He inhaled deeply. "Perhaps, perhaps I could allow your other family to reside in the palace with us. I would share you with your husband."

Seven nearly bit the inside of her cheek with a reflex to quell the urge to damage the man.

"That would be unacceptable," she said, trying to be as diplomatic as her spouse would be under the circumstances.

"But how do you know your husband would not like to live in a palace."

"I am married to a crewmember of a starship." Seven stopped mid-sentence for only a fraction of a moment, contemplating whether this was an entirely accurate statement. It was completely accurate, but she recognized it was misleading. But that irrelevant.

"Ah," he said. "A man of the stars who would not like to settle down."

"Something similar to that, yes," Seven said vaguely.

"What is the name of the ship? Perhaps I know it."

She arched a brow, knowing there was no way to render this information without raising the little king's ire. "U.S.S. Voyager."

"The obscenity of the heavens!"

"I do not believe I have heard of such a ship."

"That's not a starship name! It's a description for your Voyager," he said, spitting the last word. "The ship's captain is a shrew."

Seven could scarcely hide the amusement. "The Captain is a small rodent? Is the crew composed of mammalian rodents as well?"

"No! She's human, too. What I mean is the woman is a bitch."

Even the vulgarity did not quell Seven's amusement. The crew usually tiptoed around her, especially when it came to discussing the all-powerful Captain of the ship. She found his candor refreshing. "What is your basis for such an assessment?"

"She's a self-righteous bigot!" Conail then proceeded to tell Seven of the encounter between his daughter and hers. "That Janeway is a sauce-licker, you know?"

Seven did know of the Captain's penchant for licking. She considered it one of Kathryn's more exquisite skills, one of which, in fact, she had first-hand knowledge. First hand, first lips, first tongue…

"If I were a member of her crew I'd have willingly plunged my head into the anti-matter containment. It's a wonder that those poor depraved souls follow such a…a…a hideous, power-crazed woman."

"You think she is unattractive?"

"Unattractive—oh, no! I believe any woman has a right to be plain ugly, but that Captain Janeway abuses the privilege."

Before Seven could defend her mate, the Vashkoi King unwisely launched into an attack against Eridani Janeway. "—That warped behemoth of hers—she's a sauce licker, too."

"Of which warped behemoth do you speak?"

"The daughter, the one with the ugly red hair—ugly like her mother's. I should have seen the similarity."

Seven shot to her feet, quickly wrapping her long Borg fingers around the man's throat. His gurgling sounds echoed through the cave as she lifted him from the ground.

Only Tuvok's intervention saved him. "Seven of Nine," the Commander said in his most authoritative tone. "Please release the King."

"Not until he apologizes for his ill manners," she said.

He gagged and wheezed and managed to say "ack…apologize" before he blacked out. As promised, Seven released him and he collapsed to the ground, hitting his forehead on a boulder.

Tuvok frowned at the Borg crewmember. "That was unnecessary."

"On the contrary," she said, watching her handiwork sprawled unconscious on the ground. "It is always necessary to obey my superiors."

"You have observed the letter of the law, but have violated its spirit," Tuvok pointed out. "The point was to refrain from injuring the man."

"_I_ did not injure him," she stated coolly. "I released him as you ordered, Commander. Unfortunately, the king was a victim of Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation."

"Seven of Nine," Tuvok replied in a chiding manner. "Your argument in logic is decidedly false, to say the least." Seven waited patiently for his retort. But Tuvok seemed reluctant to carry it any further. "I will make a note of this in your official records." She nodded, as if she was aware of that consequence already. "In the meantime, wait here while I retrieve the Captain."

"Yes, Commander," she said with the merest ghost of a smile on her lips.

=/\=

Commander Chakotay and Lt. Tom Paris' teeth were chattering through the coughing fits as the alien ship where they'd stowed away ascended through the moon's atmosphere. "I'm cold and I don't think these aliens like us," Tom said before sneezing.

Though it was pitch-black, the men could feel the eddies of ammonia vapor swirl toward them, making it more difficult to breath. The jelly-fish like aliens moved closer, their hanging tentacles swayed unbeknownst to the Starfleet officers as they surged forward. In place of eyes, they possessed dark spots that seemed to be getting darker and their mouth opened, with fine filaments stretching across the orifice. The men's frost-covered hands tried to shield their ears from the high-pitch of the aliens' attempts at communication.

Tom removed his hands when he heard a loud, banging noise close to their position. "Maybe that's the female," he chattered.

"It's me, Tom," Chakotay replied. "I'm slamming the flashlight against the bulkhead."

"I don't think they know Morse code," he said grimly.

"You failed your biochem class at the academy, didn't you?"

"What makes you say—?"

It only took a few sparks before an explosion ignited the ammonia, blowing the pair back against the bulkhead and their captors in the opposite direction. They hit the curved wall with two loud thugs. The fire arced through the atmosphere toward the creatures, whose color had turned a milky white again. They shimmied backward; their tentacles appeared to flinch from the heat.

Chakotay was already on his feet, his eyes darting around for any leverage, any tool he could use. Tom had barely begun to stand when a high-pitched screech preceded the opening of an airlock. With a mighty whooshing sound, the two men were sucked out into the moon's mesosphere.

=/\=

The Borg drones looked up at them from the foot of the mountain. Their eyepieces were gyrating. After surveying the topography, the nine Borg drones seemed determined to march straight up the mountain, heedless of their less than suitable gait and the loose gravel that made their attempts precarious.

Captain Janeway and the other officers spied them from the higher ground. "All right," the Captain whispered, raising an arm for the count. "Let's show those drones a little stone-age technology." She let her arm fall. "Now!"

Several crewmembers had wedged thick limbs under several large boulders. When the Captain gave the command, they heaved the end of the limbs down, upturning several man-sized boulders.

"Assimilate this!" Harry Kim had shouted, as the black boulders triggered a little engineered landslide.

Two of the Borg were buried waist deep in debris, their arms still flailing. While the others backed off awkwardly, still staring up at the Voyager crew.

"Mr. Kim, I want you to surveille our friends," Janeway said.

"Yes, Captain," he said, brushing his sweaty forehead with a sleeve.

"We need more boulders, people," he said, ignoring the harsh pants of breath around him.

Janeway watched the rag-tag crew, most of whom were limping and all coughing. Their faces were lobster red, some layers of dead skin peeling in large sections. But they didn't complain. They didn't waver. They just got to work.

Janeway had been feeling tired and near collapse but she gained inspiration from the efforts of her crew. "The best damn crew in two quadrants," she muttered, before turning around. She nearly ran into Commander Tuvok.

"Sorry, Tuvok," she said, trying to sidestep him.

"Captain," Tuvok said. "I believe you will want to see this."

She closed her eyes. "Can it wait? Crewman Gilmore wants me to see the water transport system she'd devised. Lieutenant Hargrove has rigged an early warning system for the far side of the mountain and Ensign Mannus wants to discuss a treaty with another stranded race. "

"Please, indulge me."

He led her through the cave complex, one she'd become accustomed and could now traverse with her eyes closed. The smell of musty water wafted to her and she was surprised that Mr. Tuvok kept walking. "What's this about?" she finally asked, trying to focus on the duties at hand rather than the crewmembers who were so ill they were relegated to merely wait.

He showed her into one of the many deeply hidden caves, much darker than the others because of its location near the mountain core. The black rock of the caves seemed to just absorb the light that kicked off the few torches they could manage and it still took a few seconds for her eyes to acclimate.

"Seven!"

There was no mistaking the six-foot buxom blonde in any light. Janeway felt her heart nearly burst.

At the sound of Kathryn's voice, Seven thrust a rock cup into King Conail's hand and strode the few feet to take the woman in her arms. "I am gratified to see you," Seven said in precise tones. Janeway's crooked smile compelled Seven to press their lips together. The fleeting moment of bliss was interrupted by two things—King Conail's cry of censure and Captain Janeway's sob of pain.

The first, Seven disregarded. But to Kathryn, she tipped her head in concern.

"I'm sorry, darling," the Captain whispered, rubbing her calloused and peeling thumb along Seven's jawline. "My lips are little chapped."

Seven lifted Kathryn's chin for an incisive Borg inspection. "Incorrect," she said tersely. "They have been overexposed to ultraviolet light. There are blisters and some of the delicate tissue has split." Still holding Kathryn's hand, Seven stepped back to do a more thorough inspection. "In fact, all of your uncovered skin has been burned."

"You look as if you've been sunbathing on Risa," Janeway said, letting her a thumb play across the deeply dimpled chin.

"My Borg physiology must have altered my melanin production to compensate for the EM exposure."

Not willing to be ignored, King Conail marched to stand between the two women. "This is an outrage!" he said.

The echo made Kathryn wince. "I am sorry you can't share our joy," she said. "Since you can't, I believe there is an entire moon out there for you to find like-minded subjects."

"How dare you!"

Kathryn pivoted, pointing a clawed finger at the Vashkoi sovereign. "I've had about as much of you that I'm going to take today," she growled. "There are members of my crew—the finest beings you'll ever know—who've been slaving away out there in this hell-hole to save your ass. And all you can do is bitch about our reunion?"

The King made to speak but ended up only gurgling.

"If you don't want to find yourself digging latrines for the remainder of our time here, I suggest you find another room, mister!"

His eyes were twin moons and his cheeks were puffing out but he remained silent. Instead, King Conail lifted his chin with all of the dignity he could muster and stepped away from the pair.

Kathryn dropped her head, a finger and thumb immediately surged up to try to pinch away the headache that always seemed to float at the edge of her awareness. Though right now, it wasn't floating. It was blasting.

She looked up and tried to grin as wide as she felt. But the agony of her lips forced her to be content with a small Mona Lisa grin. "Now," she said in a husky voice. "Where were we? Oh, yes, you were telling me how _gratified_ you are to see me."

"You're abysmal attempt at humor is one of your futile ploys to distract me from either the dire situation that faces us or the serious injuries you've sustained."

Janeway shrugged of a chuckle, knowing that her Borg wife would not accept a less-than-accurate portrayal of their circumstances. "Perhaps," she purred. "But I'm still overjoyed to see you, you know."

Seven's face softened and she once again enveloped the woman in her arms, despite the heat radiating from the rocks. "And I you," she said, before kissing each of Kathryn's eyelids.

Kathryn purred her approval before laying an ear on Seven's shoulder. "I just didn't want to muck up this lovely moment with any of that reality nonsense," she whispered.

Seven responded by rubbing her back in large circles.

The moment was broken by the faint echo of her title. "The crew needs you," Seven whispered.

"And I need you," Janeway said with a heavy sigh as she stepped away from her spouse.

"And you have me," Seven replied, holding onto Kathryn's hand until she heard the heavy footfalls get closer.

"Captain," Ensign Nozawa huffed, as he came to a halt. He doubled over briefly, panting helplessly for a moment. "Tuvok sent me to get you."

"What is?" she asked.

"Three of the men and a dog have disappeared!"

=/\=

With a boot on a nearby boulder, Janeway squinted against the bright rays of the dying blue sun, as she listened to Tuvok's exhaustive search protocols for her former lovers and the Devore officer. Her eyes roamed the foot of the mountain and then the small plain. She could see the Borg still working ceaselessly to reach them. But there were no others for kilometers.

"No tracks," she repeated from Tuvok's exposition.

"Surely the Borg would not have kidnapped a dog," he stated.

"Dognapped," B'Elanna corrected, shrugging at a slight hardening of Tuvok's expression.

"You sound more like Tom Paris every nanosecond," Seven stated from behind the Captain.

Janeway narrowed her eyes before looking back at Tuvok. She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think Q erased them, if they were clones or sent them back, if they weren't," she said. "In any case, they're gone."

Tuvok stared at her for a moment, waiting for her elaborate. When she didn't, he inquired after it.

"Simple," she said, pushing off of the boulder slightly. "Molly would have alerted us to any Borg, veeber caw or any other predator out there," she said. "Besides, it makes sense now that Seven is back."

Tuvok arched a brow at his former protégé. "'Back' implies that Seven had traveled somewhere, when, in fact, Seven was rendered unconscious by a phaser burst reacting with the moon's atmosphere."

"All right," Janeway said evenly. "It makes sense now that Seven is conscious—"

"Incorrect, Mr. Tuvok," Seven said, drawing the gaze of the three officers. "My consciousness did indeed travel to somewhere and _somewhen_…"

Janeway's face darkened, while Mr. Tuvok became intense. "Seven, are you suggesting you time traveled?"

"No, I am _suggesting_ no such thing," she said. "I am stating it plainly."

"Oh, shit!" B'Elanna said, earning a brief glance from Janeway.

"Indeed," Seven replied. "Q took me to three different timelines…. Or perhaps, it would be more accurate to say to alternate timelines to reveal—"

Suddenly, all of their commbadge began to crackle with static. _"Voyager to Captain Janeway… Voyager to any crew… Are you sure this thing is on?"_ The commlink was faint and plagued by a murmuring buzz.

Janeway's eyes had flooded with unspent tears as she touched her commbadge. "Janeway here. Who am I speaking with?"

"_Cappie! It's me, Dani! We're…for…you!"_

"The link is bad," she said, closing her eyes to look up. "Can you boost the signal?"

"…_know, but it's all Mezoti…Miral could give…." _

"Miral?" B'Elanna asked.

"_Is…Lt. Torres?"_

"Yes, Dani, I'm here, too," she said, stepping forward anxiously. "Is Miral okay?"

"_She's fine. She and Mezoti …moon's…surface."_ The link was beginning to fade.

"What?" Captain Janeway and Lt. Torres said simultaneously, before quickly reverting to protocol. "Say again."

"_How do…think…broke through… interference?"_

"Can you beam us up?" Janeway asked.

"_Negative. Shielding…too strong. But…plan—"_

"Say again!" Janeway shouted, as if that would clear up the signal. "Dani, say again!" Janeway and Seven were locked in a mute but powerful mutual gaze, sharing the relief and the fear from a meter apart what they could not share in each other's arms.

"_All Voyager children…accounted for. We're organized…rescued…Talaxian children… I'm the Captain…"_

"You're what?"

"_Voyager…fully operational."_

As the Captain listened, she allowed a little bit of her remorse to trickle out—just a twitch around the eye. No one but Seven saw it because no one but Seven could impart the kind of absolution that Janeway would need for what she had to do.

"Negative."

"_Say again?"_

"Negative, Dani. I want you to—"

"_But I'm the Captain and—"_

"Negative, Captain! I am—"

"_Did you hear what I said? We've got a plan!"_

"I am ordering you to rendezvous with Mezoti and Miral and get the hell out of here. Understood?"

"_Cappie…neutrinos in blue star…forming…at exponential rate. We don't…time…"_

Janeway shared the same bitter grief with all of the officers standing with her. They knew their situation was hopeless. It was the anger she needed though—the anger at feeling so impotent at this crucial moment.

"Dani, you _must_ find help. The Vashkoi or the Treveti will help you."

"_Yes, but you—"_

"You may be acting Captain, but I'm _still _your superior officer."

"_The star is shrinking, Cappie. Twenty percent this hour alone…"_

"Dani," she said quietly. "Listen—"

"…_supernova…any time…"_

"Eridani—"

"_You'll die…" _

The bleakness in her daughter's voice nearly broke Janeway's heart in two. She heard a sob from B'Elanna and that let her focus on someone else for the time being. She slipped a comforting hand on the woman's forearm, where it was covered by one of the Lieutenant's.

"We know, darling…" she said, proud that her voice didn't crack.

"_So why—?"_

"Captain Janeway!" she barked. "Take Voyager—with all her precious cargo—out of this sector. That's an order!"

Not even the horrific interference could disguise the tremor in Dani's voice when she responded: _"Aye, Captain."_


	11. End of Innocence

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews. They keep me going.  
**

**Living Daylights**

Chapter 10: The End of Innocence

Dani rubbed her eyes with the end of her sleeves, looking around briefly to see if any of her friends on the bridge were looking at her. To her relief, they were trying to look busy. She sniffed once and then settled into her mother's command chair. _Mine now_, she thought, with a shiver. Then Dani cleared her throat.

"Helm," she said, "Lay in a course to the Vashkoi homeworld. Maximum warp."

Chakotay's son, Dukat, had swiveled his chair around, staring at her for a long moment after she'd given the order.

Dani finally allowed herself to find Dukat's dark brown eyes. He already had stubble covering his chin and upper lip. "What's the delay?" Dani finally asked. The question swiveled the others around to face them.

His deep voice was like a spade, digging into her ribs. "You decide to obey an order now? _Now?_"

She threw herself back into the seat. "Are you begging me to throw your ass in the Brig, Dukat?"

Dani's First Officer, Naomi Wildman, leaned forward, the broken leather of the seat creaking a bit. "Set the bloody coordinates, Dukat."

He smirked before turning around, spying his controls. "It's not like no one else is thinking it," he muttered.

Dani settled back into the Captain's chair, feeling the teeth of command sink painfully into her jugular. Her angry gaze swept the bridge. It was tidy, like any corner of Voyager. But after 14 years alone, there were the telltale signs of obsolescence. Some of the bulkhead panels were misshaped or discolored. Miral Paris operated the engineering console station, its pedestal missing any of its original tritanium alloy panels and revealing the bio-neural circuitry that had once meant that the U.S.S. Voyager was state-of-the-art. Just one major malfunction that none of them could repair would mean the end of them all. Dani hadn't realized the precariousness of their situation, until she'd become responsible for the whole damn ship. She coughed to cover a sigh.

Invariably, Dani's eyes found Mezoti, who seemed to be engrossed in the data from the Science Station, completely oblivious to the brief exchange between Dani and Dukat.

As she watched Mezoti move lithely in the Starfleet uniform, she heard a small hiss at her elbow, where Merkit Devero perched. _The Vashkoi heir was as useless as a neutered tribble and quite as troublesome too_, Dani thought as she finally offered her attention to the woman.

"Maybe that impudent boy is right," Merkit whispered.

"Which impudent boy?" Dani asked without any effort to conceal their conversation.

"She means me," Dukat said in a deep bass over his shoulder, still staring down at his console.

"Ah," Dani said. "_That_ impudent boy."

She heard Dukat snort and a tight knot inside of her chest began to unwind just a little.

The children of Voyager could (and have) quarreled loudly, some disagreements devolving into fierce dogfights. But they never lasted and no one ever held a grudge. _Kind of like siblings_, Dani thought, glancing once to her sister Shannon who manned the Ops station. Every child here was a Starfleet brat and implicit in that was understanding that some decisions were painful enough—but that didn't mean you couldn't be _fiercely_ questioned or ridiculed. But it also meant a fierce camaraderie.

"Well?" Merkit asked imperiously.

Dani glanced back at the woman, her skin a sumptuous caramel with beautifully sculpted lips and dark, sharp eyes. She couldn't believe she'd ever thought the woman was beautiful. "Well what?"

"Sometimes you have to make your own decisions," Merkit said matter-of-factly. Though Dani realized that the only decisions Merkit had been allowed to make had involved apparel and maybe dishes.

Dani got a supportive nod from Naomi, offering a ghost of a smile in thanks. "I already did," she said, bolting upright to end any more unwelcome and uninformed commentaries from the woman. "All right, you bunch of green _cadinks_, I want your reports, starting with Mr. Wildman."

Without hesitation or even a hint of the earlier attitude, Dukat Wildman spouted off the particulars. "We are steady at warp factor 6, having just left the sector grid two, as ordered," he stated efficiently.

"Ops?" Dani shouted. "Distance to the closest class M planet?"

Shannon's blue eyes, just like her Borg mother's, were intent on the console screen, her hand gliding across the controls. "At current speed, we are approximately three weeks from the nearest class M."

"What about Vashkoi?" Merkit asked.

Shannon Janeway acted as if the question had not been asked. If the commanding officer did not inquire, it was as if it had not been.

Merkit clucked her teeth and addressed the question to Dani, who thought it was a fair question so she repeated it back to her sister.

Shannon looked at her sister to reply, showing she'd known the answer all along: "6 weeks," she said pointedly. "Sir."

Merkit's delicately shaped eyebrows shot up into her hair. "That's 12 weeks round trip," she said. "My father doesn't have that long."

Dani waved off the comment. "Security, report?"

"Long-range and short-range sensors are clear of threats, Captain," Azan said.

She nodded. "Well, then, we've got quite a journey."

Merkit finally shot to her feet. "What is wrong with you?" she asked, Dani and then finally directing at them all. "What is wrong with all of you? If you don't care about my father, then so be it. What about your parents? And yours?"

The bridge was silent except for the ticking of the ship's systems. "Merkit," Dani finally replied with more patience than she felt. "Cappie was right to send us for help. We barely have enough crew to adequately maintain the ship's delicate—and failing—systems. You factor in the number of infants on board that will need care—even in the middle of a rescue mission and our able-body count has just dwindled by half."

"What are you saying? That you've given them up?"

Dani shook her head when she spoke. "Negative," she replied. "But we simply don't have the resources to help them."

"You're a coward," Merkit hissed and stormed off the bridge.

Dani stared at the shut turbolift, again only the ticking ship could be heard. "Well," she said to the rest of the bridge crew. "If I had known that discussion would have caused such a reaction, I would have had it an hour ago."

The boys chuckled. Shannon and Mezoti each imparted chiding looks that Dani shrugged off.

=/\=

Earlier that day somewhere over the moon, Lt. Tom Paris shut his eyes against the burning cold wind that was blasting him as he fell downward through the mesosphere. He thought he had hated stowing away on a starship of ammonia-breathing aliens.

From 40 kilometers up, the moon's thin atmosphere appeared like a narrow knife of orange and it was cutting into Tom's body as he descended through its layers.

_It could have been worse_, he thought. _We could have been blasted out into open space. I'd be dead nearly instantly. Instead, I get to contemplate my death as we fall. _

"I'm going to die," he screamed. Only it didn't matter. Commander Chakotay, the other victim of expulsion, seemed lost inside his own personal hell.

While Tom lamented the ending of his life, his regrets for more children and that he would never see B'Elanna again, Chakotay went inward to that place of bliss where he could find his spirit guide. He didn't have a black bird's wing, but he was flying, wasn't he? Nor did he have a stone from a river. He was the stone, falling and falling. Nor did he have an acuna, the device that slips him into a meditative state—not that he could obtain one as he hurtled toward his death. But perhaps his spirit guide would still come to him.

_We are far from the sacred places of our grandfathers_, he thought, trying to block out the panic. _We are far … I need you! _He hoped his spirit guide could forgive this breach of etiquette.

Instantly—and to his great surprise—a vision of the Professor Zakarian formed before his eyes. "Chakotay, you cannot learn by osmosis," the man said just before a sneeze. The Starfleet Academy instructor threw a padd at then-cadet Chakotay. The thin, gray rectangle skidded through the air, dinking him in the forehead.

In the present Chakotay felt the dent by his temple, as if it had just happened. "You must learn by doing," Zakarian had said.

In that instant, it was as if all of his training in survival had returned. Chakotay arched his back and spread out his arms and legs. Increasing his surface area, and consequently the wind resistance, caused him to _seemingly_ fly up compared to his comrade, Tom, who zoomed by, still screaming.

_Now how to get Tom to imitate me before it's too late,_ he thought. Chakotay lowered an arm and a leg, effectively steering his descent to within an arm's length from Tom's falling body. But the man was intently focused on the ever-looming moon's surface, which grew larger with every second of descent.

So Chakotay grabbed the man's thinning hair, nearly tumbling onto his back in the process. Through a series of disjointed and graceless maneuvers, Chakotay finally made Tom to understand the position he was to assume.

Then he pointed to a mountaintop in the distance. With a careful folding and unfolding of their arms and legs, the pair could travel some distance forward, even as they fell down. His Starfleet Academy survival instructors had emphasized a two to one ratio, traveling two feet vertically for every foot down.

_That means, we can just make that small mountain side, _he thought. _If we can roll along its slope to absorb most of the energy of our descent, we may have a fighting chance at surviving. Or so the theory goes. _The last thought almost made him laugh, if not death's icy grip on his heart. He'd always been more practical than theoretical, a combination that made him the perfect First Officer for Captain Janeway.

He tried to demonstrate the position he wanted them to take upon impact, but it only sent him skittering out of control. Bile surged up, fouling his mouth and soiling his own face and clothes. As a last resort, he pulled Tom close, shouting into his ear: "Bend your knees on impact."

"What?"

"Bend knees at impact." He had to repeat it several times, but in the end Tom nodded. "Feet first…and roll! Keep rolling until you stop."

Tom gestured to his ear and Chakotay shouted out other orders again until he was hoarse. _I guess he doesn't remember his survival course,_ Chakotay thought. _It's quite a test for a course nearly 15 years removed. _

When the mountain's slope was nearly under them, Chakotay pushed away from the man, trying to give them room. That's one thing they could do for themselves.

The mountain was similar to the one where the crew had camped, but this one was littered with grotesque tree stumps, now gray twisted slivers sticking up like would-be instruments of impalement. Or of crushing obstacles to halt their energy-absorbing roll.

The loose gravel promised a gentle landing that it did not deliver. Chakotay howled upon impact, a loud crack filling his ears. His feet stung from the asymmetrical landing and his thighs throbbed, the pain radiating to his ears. He allowed the momentum to pitch him forward, as he tried to bend his frame into a semi-circle for the roll. The sharp mountain grit bit into his hands. He cried out again when his protruding femur bones were thrust against his chest. And he rolled, allowing the force of the fall to run its course along the slope.

When at last the friction of his body along the jagged mountain had dissipated the energy, his battered and bruised body came to stop just shy of a dead tree. His head was lower than his feet and still the moon was whirling to his senses. The dizzying effect took some time to correct itself, but was soon followed by another bout of vomiting. With the contents of his stomach still empty and his femur bones fragmented and disjointed, Commander Chakotay was reduced to turning his head to expel the yellow-brown fluid stored in his liver. It was bitter and laced with blood.

"But dammit, I'm alive," he croaked after expelling palm's worth of the bitter body fluid.

He brushed the shards of rock embedded uncomfortably in his hands and wiped his mouth. "Tom!" he shouted, trying to lift his upper body up. But his awkward position only made the loose gravel under him slip and slid down further, causing a jarring pain in his legs. It also kicked up dust particulates and he coughed relentlessly, trying vainly to cover his nose and mouth.

"Tom Paris!" His second and third shouts were feeble reverberations.

But the other survivor heard him. "Here!" he shouted between a whooping fit of coughs.

Chakotay managed to lift his head by his elbows. Straining through the dust he had kicked up, he could see the dusty travesty of a uniform a few meters to his right. "You okay?"

"Aside from the fractured left metatarsals and carpus…." He groaned once. "Maybe some broken ribs…bleeding nose and ear…I'd say I'm rather peachy."

"Can't be too bad, if you can still joke," Chakotay said.

"Oh, I'll never break my funny bone," he added with another soft whimper. "But moving is going to be next to impossible, you realize."

"Same here," he said.

"So now we can fry like two slices of bacon on this God-forsaken moon," Tom grumbled.

"One problem at a time, Lieutenant," Chakotay said. "I saved us from certain falling death. It's your turn to save us from spontaneous combustion."

"Flip yourself over," he said in a hoarse voice. "And keep doing it."

"You'd prefer a slow, simmering death."

"I'd prefer a slow, simmering steak," he said.

"Topped with fried Xylo eggs with a side of grilled Bajoran citron fingers…mmm, delicious."

"What the hell are Bajoran citron fingers?"

"It's a blue vegetable—and no, they aren't actual fingers. They just look like fingers. I learned to love them as a kid on Trebus."

"I think I'd rather eat gagh."

"B'Elanna has certainly changed you," he said.

"Thank you—I think."

The two keened quietly as they tried to turn themselves over, relieving the rising prickles of their facial skin from the unrelenting blue sun. "Oh, God!" Chakotay wailed. "This is agony on my broken legs."

"Just think, Chakotay," Tom said with a hint of humor. "All of the women on Voyager have been wanting to shove you out of an airlock for years. If they only knew…"

"Not _all_ the women…"

"No, just the ones you slept with—which is nearly all."

"My dearest hope is that you live to tell them all about it. Maybe then they won't spit at my footfalls or curse under their breath when I walk by."

"They'll just laugh then. Too bad I can't take a holopicture."

"Yeah, too damn bad."

=/\=

Only moments ago, Captain Janeway had ordered her eldest daughter to leave this sector. Every member of her crew on that mountain side had heard her give that command. The awful silence that followed was laced with the twin poison of regret and grief.

She was thankful for the hand of support she felt from Seven. But it was the logical Vulcan who spoke into the turbulence. "With their limited resources, Captain, there was no alternative."

Janeway softened her expression, but in doing so, she almost lost her grip on composure. But a loud blast from the valley below drew all of their attention from their own wounds.

The sulfuric pool that had teased Janeway with the promise of water yesterday was spewing liquid magma into the sky, nearly as high as the mountain peak on which they stood. Water vapor and other gases were billowing out and the crew began to cough and their eyes to water.

"A moon with plate tectonics!" Janeway mused, the inner-scientist still able to embrace the wonder of it all. But it was Janeway the pragmatist and Captain who urged the crew inside the caves. "We'll be safer inside," she said, steering some by the shoulders. The thick, gray smoke made it nearly impossible to see even two feet in front of them. She was nearly the last to enter the safety of the caverns, but not before falling to one knee.

But Seven of Nine was there to lift her up. The Captain had to object vehemently when Seven picked her up. "I can still walk, goddammit!"

She instantly regretted the sour note. Seven, of all people, did not deserve to experience the rage that the Captain was barely able to cover. It wasn't Seven's fault she made a choice to save the children over their own lives.

Seven released the Captain's legs, maintaining a hold of the woman's shoulders until she was standing upright. "I apologize, Captain," she said formally.

The Captain coughed and her voice became rasping reeds. "Seven, I didn't mean to sound so angry."

Seven nodded, gesturing toward the cave as the sputtering Captain stopped to hack. "Let's hurry," she wheezed.

Inside, the crew huddled deep at the back of the cavern, but still the stench of rotting eggs found them. The torches were extinguished, leaving them in palpable blackness. Most had already found a place to nestle, as if they were giving up for the day or forever. Whispers echoed about, the soft susurrations saturating the already bone-weary and pressing them down.

"I can't see anything," Janeway finally confided after nearly stumbling.

Seven took Kathryn's hand, twining her fingers with the Captain's, as she led her to a spot near the small trickle of a stream. "We are fortunate for the water," Seven said, soaking a length of clothe in the dwindling stream. She wrung it slightly before tying the wet mask around Janeway's sun-burned face.

"There must be an underground spring that kept the magma from erupting under our feet," the Captain choked out.

"Perhaps you are correct," Seven said.

Seven tried to pull the Captain down with her, but she resisted. "Tidal forces…." she rasped bleakly. "It would tear this moon—"

Seven drew Kathryn close, wrapping her arms around the woman and resting her lips on the shell of her ear. "Mrs. O'Nine," she whispered. Seven felt Kathryn's taut muscles go slack and then she heard a nearly inaudible sob. Seven tightened her grip, pressing Kathryn against her in a fervent embrace. Seven murmured her sympathy—a nonsensical noise so low, it harmonized into the ambient whispers—offering them both a measure of privacy that could not otherwise be found. As the minutes of Kathryn's grief stretched, Seven found herself rocking the woman in her arms. But it did not take Kathryn Janeway long to recover her composure. Seven felt it, even as Kathryn's hands snaked up her back to find the stubble on her head.

"Are you going to let your hair grow…?"

Kathryn's eyes filled with moisture before she finished the question. But instead of turning away from Seven, Kathryn pursed her lips and lifted her head, waiting for the control to return. She did not usually weep openly, even in front of Seven. But the darkness provided her a feeling of concealment.

"My Borg implant is capable of processing even the faintest photons of light," Seven whispered.

Kathryn closed her eyes tightly and a single tear fell. "I forgot," she admitted.

Seven tugged Kathryn's hand, finding them a smooth cavern wall to lean against. She adjusted Kathryn, cushioning her back with her own body. With a free hand, Seven drew back the strands of her spouses nearest ear. "I have a list for you," Seven said, matter-of-factly.

The tone took Kathryn by surprise. "Oh? What sort of list?"

"It is a list of activities for us when we return to the Alpha Quadrant."

Kathryn remained silent, but the hand still entwined with Seven's squeezed gently in gratitude. She threw her head back against Seven's shoulders. "Thank you," she whispered.

"But you have not heard the list yet."

Kathryn smiled into the darkness. "Let's hear it."

"First, you will provide me the honeymoon that you promised me on Boolarai."

Kathryn nuzzled closer into the woman. "I think I'm going to like this list."

"Then we will present our children to our nearest relatives."

"You mean, you want to give them away?"

Seven was silent for a moment. "I have erred in my word choice. That is to say, we will _introduce_ our children to our nearest relatives."

"Ah, vast difference," she said.

"One our children would not appreciate," the Borg said.

"Nor our relatives," Janeway replied with a smile laced in the comment.

"Then I would like to have another child—and, more precisely, I will carry your child—or children, if the zygote splits…." When the Captain did not speak, Seven continued unperturbed. "This will allow me to be the mother and you the father, speaking strictly on a cellular level."

"Seven…"

"I do not wish for my regenerated ovaries and uterus to be squandered."

Seven finally felt Janeway pat her stomach. "You sure can pick your moments, my darling."

"It is part of my strategy for you to understand that I believe we will survive," she said needlessly. She felt Janeway shake a moment, but Seven was unsure whether it was due to mirth or grief.

"Do you know how much I love you, Seven of Nine?"

"Though you have never actually _quantified_ it—nevertheless, I do know. For it is as much as I love you."

In the darkness, their lips fumbled about, kissing chins and noses, until they found their magnetic poles at last. After only a few light smacks, Janeway moaned, pulling back. "My lips are very chapped," she admitted.

Seven gently tugged Janeway closer, resting her dimpled chin on the top of Kathryn's head. Absently, Seven rubbed her hand in large circles along the woman's back. Though the heat of their close quarters was nearly unbearable, the pair managed to remain wrapped around each other for some time.

Janeway tried hard not to listen to other couples, though sometimes the occasional sniffle would rise like resounding klaxon. But Janeway persisted in trying to allow her crew this last bit of respect, one she was grateful for herself.

"Kathryn," Seven whispered, receiving a brief hum against her chest in reply. "I must tell you of my experience during my unconscious state."

"Did you dream?"

"Q."

The single sound—the single letter carried all of the ominous significance that Seven meant. Janeway bolted up, looking to Seven out of habit and not because she could see her. "Did he interfere?"

Seven slipped a hand along Kathryn's neck, allowing her thumb to smooth the small patch of skin that remained unmarred by the harsh blue sun's ultraviolet rays. "Not in the sense you presume," she said. "He showed me…."

Even as she was speaking, they heard a loud grunt, followed closely by Klingon curses that appeared to approaching. "Coming through…watch your limbs…"

An expected squawk brought a brief halt to the advance. "Sorry, but I did warn you." Then her footfalls began to echo again. "Captain? It's me, B'Elanna."

"Lt. Torres," Seven replied evenly. "We are approximately three meters from your position, at heading 270."

B'Elanna altered course, apologized twice for stepping on various limbs or makeshift bedrolls before finding the pair. "Captain," she said, squatting down. "Are you here?"

Janeway reached out, nearly pushing the Klingon over in her attempt to reassure her she was in the right place. "B'Elanna," she finally said. "I'm right here."

B'Elanna flopped to the ground, near the voice. "I've been monitoring the springhead below our position," she said. "The water discharge has significantly slowed."

"Why?"

Seven saw B'Elanna gesture up.

"I believe the underground lava flow may be converting the underground spring to steam," she said. "Haven't you felt a rise in the humidity?"

Janeway rubbed her forehead, hissing at her own sweat stinging her fried skin. "Now that you mention it, it certainly feels hotter."

"Though the ambient temperature in the cave—38.8 degrees—has not changed," Seven informed. "The relative humidity has increased."

"Is there still water flow?" the Captain asked quietly, trying to avoid being overheard.

"Barely," B'Elanna whispered.

"Terrific," the Captain hissed.

"Can this fucking day get any worse?" B'Elanna groused as she groped her way to find the cave wall, sliding down to find a spot beside the Captain.

Before she'd finished the question, the mountain began to rumble. Pebbles and sand began to drizzle down upon them, coating them and mixing with the black soot that seemed embedded in their very cells.

"Indeed," Seven said.

=/\=

Dani Janeway strode onto the bridge, relieving the swing duty shift. With so few crewmembers on which to draw, that meant eight-hours-on/eight-hours-off. It would likely be an exhausting schedule, one to which Dr. von Behring has already objected. But these were not ordinary times.

As the other officers entered the bridge, Dani stepped lightly down the few steps to the command chair, currently occupied by her First Officer, Naomi Wildman. "Hey," she said, by way of greeting.

Naomi looked up from her padd. "Hey, yourself." She stood up, watching the other officers file past her. "That was fast," she said of her shift.

Dani crossed her arms. "I hope you aren't becoming addicted to anamazine," she said with a hint of amusement.

Naomi's mouth dropped slightly. "I—never, Captain—Doctor von Behring has only ever administered it to me and—"

"Relax, Commander," Shannon said, as she walked by on her way out. "The Captain is trying to zing your matter stream."

Naomi's automatic response was to look hurt, but Shannon pivoted back. "But she only does that to her friends." She winked at the First Officer and curled a lip at her sister. "Good night, Captain Pipsqueak."

Dani ignored the chuckles of some of her friends and crewmembers, as she observed her sister watching Dukat Wildman exit the turbolift for the start of his shift. Dani felt like an evil genius, scheduling the two lovebirds on opposing schedules.

"Captain," Naomi said, drawing Dani's attention to the offered padd. "Everything's been quiet. We are 3.2 parsecs from the next sector. The Doctor reported that crew, as well as all babies and toddlers, are healthy. All systems are operational. You have the bridge."

"Thanks," she said, swiping the padd with a thumb before dropping her arm. "And get some rest—or maybe get a little holodeck time and then squeeze in some rest. You deserve it."

"We all deserve it, Captain," Naomi said, gliding her hands along the railing as she took the stairs two at a time.

"You got that right," she said, her mind already drifting to the padd report.

The alpha duty shift was not even halfway complete when Dukat Wildman began to tap furiously at his control panels. "Captain," he said. "I'm reading a ship—negative, make that two ships. Point-two light years dead ahead."

Dani sat up, as did the rest of the young crew. "On screen. Any recognized warp signatures?"

Dukat looked up, the faint outline of a gray cube barely visible.

"Magnify screen by a factor of 4," Dani ordered.

"Borg," she whispered. The word was like a jagged knife held at their collective throat. The temperature on the bridge rose to sweltering. Dani jumped to her feet, covering a hand with her mouth.

"Captain," Azan at the security station called. "Three Borg cubes approximately point-three light years starboard. I am performing a sweep of this parsec and…" He looked up at Captain Janeway.

"Spit it out," she ordered.

"Twelve Borg cubes in this sector."

"Twelve?" she whispered, looking back at the viewscreen in disbelief.

"From their positions, I'd say they've been tracking us for a few sector grids," Dukat said grimly.

"Maximum warp!"

"Aye, Captain," the helmsman said.

They watched the screen in silence, as they attempted to flee. "Report?" Dani asked.

"The cubes are in pursuit," Azan said. "They now number 15."

"I was hoping they were just passing through," said Kateri Gilmore, the daughter of Commander Chakotay and Ensign Marla Gilmore. Her dark eyes were frightened twin moons at the communication station.

"Borg do not pass through," Azan clarified in a monotone. "They blitz and assimilate."

Kateri's alarm seemed to grow by the clarification until Shannon Janeway, who was reporting for duty, whispered something to her on the way to her station.

"With this many cubes," Dani mused, running a hooked finger over her strong chin, "I expected them to be frying bigger Darvot fritters than us."

"We're the biggest fritters around," Dukat said, in typical alpha-male fashion.

"Captain, they are energizing weapons." Azan's monotone, while appreciated, was deceptive to the dire situation.

"Raise shields!" Dani shouted. "Go to red alert. Captain to crew: All hands report for duty. We will engage the Borg!"

Red lights began to flash on the bridge and the ship klaxon began to wail throughout the ship.

"They are firing!"

"Modulate shields," the Captain ordered. "Return fire, full spread."

"Modulating," Azan said.

"Firing all phasers," Mezoti said.

Red beams of destructive lights erupted from Voyager in multiple directions; seemingly to terminate without incident about 10 meters shy of the Borg cubes. The only evidence of Voyager's fire power was the green force field encasing the enemy vessels shimmered lightly in response to the mild provocation.

"Damage report?" Dani growled through gritted teeth, wishing she had more fire power.

"Captain," Azan said slowly, as he rechecked his readings. "Not one Borg phaser has struck any micron of the ship's hull."

Dani blew out a breath and threw herself back into the chair, a hand to her chin. She occasionally glanced down at the data streams. _Where is the damn green text!_ she screamed in her head. _I need you!_

It finally came and she greeted the message with a barrage of swear words. _Trust yourself,_ it read.

"Helm," she finally ordered. "All available to propulsion!"

Dukat had not expected that order and glanced back at her over her shoulder.

"You got a problem with that, Mister?"

"No," he replied. "No, sir."

On the viewscreen, the move seemed to take even the Borg by surprise because the Borg vessels ceased their weapons discharges.

"What are we going to do?" a bleak Kateri asked.

Dani heard the utter defeat in the girl's voice. _What would Cappie say at a time like this? _she wondered. Even a full minute did not provide her any inspiration and she cursed under breath when the green text supplied its own aphorism.

"_We'll do the unexpected," _it read.

Dani clenched her teeth from shouting out at the text, not wanting another person to mistake her irritation with the green text for irritation with them. "We'll do what we've always done, Kateri," Dani replied. "We'll survive."

The girl blushed and turned to the controls of her station. "Captain, we're being hailed."

She hardened her face, expecting the typical "We are the Borg" message. She grabbed the arms of the chair so hard that her hands ached. A pale and pasty gray face of a slender Borg female filled the screen. Her head was organic, with long conduits snaking along the top to loop behind her. Her inky eyes flickered with malice when they swept the bridge and finally rested on the central figure.

"Where is Captain Janeway?" she asked in a voice that was both humanoid and synthetic.

"You're looking at 'er," Dani said, throwing a leg casually over the other. "Who the fuck are you?"

The woman's head tipped one way and then another, studying Voyager's new commanding officer. "Captain Janeway would never be so crude."

"Yeah? Well, that's where you're wrong. I _am_ Captain Janeway and I want to why the hell you fired on us?"

The woman continued to study her, as green lights cast eerie shadows on the planes of her face. Drones crossed behind the expanse of Borg decking behind her.

"You are the subunit of Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine," she said finally.

Dani felt like this was one of her Borg's mother's puzzles. It was a statement and not a question. The wrong reply would do more than earn more homework; it could very well endanger her sister. Deciding on a strategy, she answered: "Did my hair give me away?"

The Borg Queen's eyes glinted as she looked around the Bridge. "Where is the other subunit?"

Dani tried to casually stand as a distraction to the Borg Queen. "Your intel is obsolete," she said. "My sister died several years ago."

The Borg Queen's eyes narrowed. "You are attempting to deceive me."

"Do you see anyone else with red hair here?" Dani snapped.

The Borg Queen's eyes roamed the bridge, examining each potential drone before finally finding Dani. "You will submit yourself to us and we will spare your ship."

Dani's face furrowed. "Hmm, tempting offer. Can I have a few minutes to think about it?"

"You have five."

Dani ran a finger over her throat and Kateri cut the transmission. When the indicator lights under the viewscreen went red, the bridge erupted in a cacophony of dissent, with Shannon Janeway's being the loudest.

"You can't give yourself to them," Shannon said. "I won't let you!"

Dani crinkled her nose. "I love you, too," she whispered.

Shannon's face flashed tender before she submerged it in a glare. "I just can't believe you are seriously considering it."

"Shannon Astrid is correct," Azan said. "Once the Borg Queen has assimilated you, she will no doubt finish the job."

Dani crossed her arms. "Azan, do you remember when we went hull surfing that one time?"

The non sequitur caught the former Borg drone by surprise and his eyes blinked several long moments before he responded. "As I recall, we were disciplined for two weeks by Captain Janeway."

Dani smiled. "Quick now…do you remember how we fooled Commander Tuvok into thinking we were still studying on the holodeck?"

Dani could see the wheels beginning to spin inside his head; some of the others murmured their agreement at the crystalizing plan. "Yes, I accessed the main computer and deactivated the—"

"We'll reminisce later. Right now, I need you to replicate that for our mechanical zombie friends."

"Mechanical zombies?" he said. "They are cybernetic organisms—"

Dani smiled. "Oh, yeah. I forget. So can you do it again for us?"

"Yes, I will—"

"Terrific! Do it but place us in the main shuttle bay." Dani turned in a circle as she spoke, careful to catch the gaze of each of them as she did. "When I say '_assimilate_' then I want all of you—except Naomi and Dukat—to file out like it's a military order as if you're going to escape via shuttles. But instead, get into your gravity boots. Azan, that's when you'll dampen all life signs on the ship. Maybe we can gain more time…"

Azan seemed dubious once he realized the extent of her plan. "The Borg are not so easily fooled," he stated.

"Maybe," she said, marching to the communications station. She rested a foot on the step between the spindles and an elbow on the rail. "Kateri, does your dad still have the last crystal skull in your quarters."

The girl crinkled her brow. "No, he recycled it after the last time it didn't work."

Dani let her forehead fall into her hand. "Damn," she whispered.

"We can replicate it again," she said.

Her head jerked up in growing optimism. "You have the schematics?"

"My father does," she said, suddenly looking down at her controls.

"Then all we'll need is time," she said with a sniff at the last word. "That's what I want you to do when you leave—"

"Captain, incoming message."

Dani tugged her tunic down and walked to the center of the bridge. Dani dipped her head in response when she said: "Kateri, on screen."

The second the screen polarized, Dani's eyes glittered back with hatred at the Borg Queen when she spoke.

"You will lower your shields and we will beam you—"

Dani arched a brow and shook her head. "Change of plans, babe."

The Borg Queen's dark eyes flashed in anger. "That is unwise."

Dani made a show of suppressing her smile. "So here's _your _deal. You will be allowed to run along and play with Species 8472. In return, we won't decimate you."

The Borg Queen's face tightened. "Your resistance is—"

"Yeah, I know. Futile. I've heard that before. But here's the thing—it isn't, not really. And do you know why?"

"Because you do not comprehend the resources at my disposal?"

Dani snickered a little. "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "It's because after every one of your attempts to 'assimilate' us—"

Abruptly the crew began to empty the Bridge and Dani broke off her incitement to watch them out of the corner of an eye, careful to avoid meeting her sister's.

When the Bridge was quieted again, Dani looked up. "After all that shit, and we're still here," she said, standing up with a glint of defiance that she had seemed to master so easily. "And I like those odds."

The second before Dani even finished the last word, all twelve Borg cubes opened fire on the limping ship.

"Modulating shields, Captain," Naomi said.

"Helm, ETA to the blue star?"

Dukat's nimble hands were working double time. "ETA in three hours."

"Full reverse," Dani said. "Best possible speed."

"The Borg have adapted," Naomi shouted. "Warp engines are down!"

Within nanoseconds, three Borg materialized on the Bridge.

"Dukat!" Dani shouted as one of the Borg marched toward her. "Deactivate the artificial gravity generator on decks 4 through 10."

"Let's hope our Zombie friends can't maneuver in Zero G," he said, as he punched a key. He jumped from the console seat in time to evade an advancing Borg.

"_Artificial gravity generator deactivated," _the computer said.

Dani scrambled up in time to see Naomi drop into the martial art form of Mok'bara that Lt. B'Elanna Torres had taught the cadets. She inhaled deeply as her legs spread and her knees bent. One arm with open hand was raised near her spiky forehead and the other was fisted at her side. The Borg drone marched menacingly toward her as he lifted his arm, the assimilation tubules questing.

In a graceful, but powerful sweep, Naomi's left leg struck the side of the enemy's knee. She dodged the dangerous tubules with unexpected twists. When Naomi's spinning roundhouse kick punished the drone's same knee again, a crack was heard through the grunts and shouts. Her drone fell to one side, his expression unperturbed and his knee bending in the wrong direction. Before he could compensate, Naomi had clasped his head, snapping his neck with a practiced jerk.

"Too bad for you that I aced Mok'bara," she said, dusting her hands.

She turned in time to see Dukat block the drone's assimilation tubules with the blade of a ceremonial knife. _He's not supposed to have that_, Naomi thought. But she was relieved that her brother did. The knife's handle was ornately carved dark wood and its onyx blade glistened when he sliced it through the air, severing the tubules of one arm and the wrist of the other.

"We're not easy pickin's," Dukat snarl.

The Borg—once a Kazon—jerked his head to stare at the waving stumps of tubules, ignoring the cascade of blood pouring from his open wound. Before Dukat's eyes, the needle-like devices that initiate Borg assimilate had regenerated. The Borg once again began to lurch forward, aiming the assimilation devices at Dukat's bearded face.

He parried the Borg's thrust, ending with an upper cut. The move embedded the blade into the Borg's throat, causing it to jerk and twitch. When the enemy fell backward, Dukat withdrew his dagger. "Assimilate that, you gray bastard!"

He beamed at his older sister, Naomi, as he wiped the blade against the command red of his Starfleet tunic. "Two down," he said with a foolish grin.

Naomi was about to respond when they both heard a loud thud followed by a soft whimper. They turned to find Dani plastered against the bulkhead by the turbolift and a menacing Borg marching toward her.

Dukat grabbed his dagger by the blade, and squinted an eye, aiming the weapon at the former human's heart. He tossed it with proficiency. But the dagger found its target a little lower than expected, piercing the Borg's slick black suit to embed itself into its gluteus maximus.

"Fuck!" Dukat growled.

"You need more practice," Naomi pointed out needlessly.

The Borg swatted at the protruding knife, as if it were a gnat or mosquito. But the wound did not slow its progress toward Dani.

Dukat jumped over the railing with one swift kick of his heels, placing him between the Captain and the Borg. It hesitated, before veering off to take proper aim at the boy.

Dukat expected it would take an assimilation stab, which is why he was surprised to be flung across the bridge by the Borg's other appendage. By this time, Dani was on her feet to face the advancing cybernetic organism.

To Dani's surprise, Naomi gave a loud whoop before jumping onto the Borg's back and wrapping her arms around its neck, throwing its center of gravity off balance. Both Naomi and the Borg tumbled backward to the decking, with Naomi giving a breathy grunt upon impact.

The knife was shoved deeper into the enemy, sticking out of its torso beside the hip. But neither the wound nor a grappling First Officer seemed to slow the Borg. Naomi had a hold of its head, but could not gain any leverage to snap it as she had done before.

The delay and Naomi's close proximity were a serious tactical error, as the assimilation tubules undulated dangerously close to her pale arms. "Naomi!" Dani shouted, as she slid feet-first toward the Borg. With the only weapon at her disposal—a long, pristine phase compensator—Dani used both hands to drive its twin prongs into the creature's throat.

Red blood began to gurgle out its mouth and from the wound. Its legs continued to move as if it were marching still.

"Naomi, are you all right?" When she didn't answer, Dani began to frantically shove the flailing creature to one side. But its dense body, weighted from extensive Borg implants, was nearly impossible to budge.

"Duke! Get over here!" she bellowed. Before she had even finished, he was beside her, taking one of its arms to pull it off of his sister.

He looked down at Naomi, his eyes welling with unspent tears. "Oh, no," he whispered. "No!"

With Dukat Wildman pulling and Dani shoving the creature with her legs, they managed to pry it off halfway. It was enough to pull Naomi out. Dani wailed when she saw the ashen gray skin beginning to spread from the twin puncture marks at her wrist. "Oh, Naomi!"


	12. Light Show

A/N: Thank you for all the kind reviews. They keep me writing.

**Living Daylights**

Chapter 11: Light Show

Dani stared for two more nanoseconds at the spot where Naomi Wildman had fallen under the cruel spell of two Borg assimilation tubules.

A macabre spider web of graying veins sprouted along Naomi's neck, as her head fell back. "Naomi!" Dani shouted in vain.

Naomi's only response was for her once vibrant eyes to grow glassy.

"This isn't happening, dammit," she growled. Dani slammed the commbadge at her chest. "Computer, emergency site-to-site transport. Authorization Janeway Alpha Seven Seven."

Dukat placed a firm hand on Dani's shoulder. "You should stay," he said, in that imperious voice that usually annoyed her.

Dani made to protest, but Dukat gently pushed her away. "She's _my_ sister."

Sparkles engulfed the brother-sister pair, leaving only the red alert klaxon to comfort the 15-year-old captain. Hails from all over the ship snapped Dani back into her role.

"_Captain, there are 200 Borg on Voyager!" _

"_Borg have penetrated Engineering!"_

Dani jumped into the helm station chair, running her fingers nimbly along the now-worn console. "Modulating shields," she said the empty bridge.

"Shields are failing," she replied to herself.

The sound of the bridge door sliding open tore her eyes from the console and Dani finally let go of the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Shannon Janeway stood there, in her gold and black uniform. Blonde strands defied a gold elastic band in back, giving her head an unruly halo. The apple of her left cheek was bruised and swollen. A crooked smile was contorted by her asymmetrical swollen upper lip.

To Dani's surprised look, Shannon shot an index finger and thumb in the salute the Voyager children shared, as she bounded down the steps toward the helm station. "Dukat," she said as an explanation, thumbing for her senior bridge officer/sister to vacate the station.

Dani lightly patted Shannon's cheek before stepping away. "That must have been one hell of a party," she said, taking up the command chair.

Her sister's eyes never parted from the readings on the helm console. "Meanwhile, you look fresh as a Sikarian daisy." Then without skipping a beat, Shannon added: "The Borg are attempting to lock onto us with their tractor beam."

"Reverse engines," Dani ordered.

"Aye, full reverse." Shannon pursed her lips and shook her head, her fingers flying furiously over the console.

Voyager shuddered. "They're gaining on us, Dani."

"Engineering, all available to engines!"

"_We're…trying…."_ Miral Paris issued a flurry of Klingon curses, followed by a loud snarl. _"Dammit! Stay down!...Captain, I'm back…you've got everything now."_

Dani wiped the sweat from her brow with a sleeve. "Understood, Miral. Janeway out."

With the energy redirection, the lights on the bridge began to dim, the red alert light fading. The only illumination came from the running lights.

A barrage of messages, injury reports and damage reports from vital areas around the ship began to pour in, so fast that Dani could hardly respond to them all.

"All crew standby," she noted reluctantly. "Captain to Azan—"

The "Azan here" reply faded as Shannon barked a report. "Dani, hull integrity is down to 75 percent."

"Noted, Shay…Azan, report!"

They heard a grunt and a loud crash. "175 Borg have materialized in the main shuttlebay."

Dani shared a concerned look with her sister. Their friend and comrade sounded out-of-breath, a reaction contrary to his Borg stoicism.

Finally, Dani ordered them all to standby. "Computer, how many intruders aboard?"

"_200."_

"Computer, where are they concentrated?"

"_Ten have ceased life signs. Ninety are scattered on decks 4 through 11. The remaining Borg are in main shuttlebay"_

"Computer—"

A light began to blink on the communications console, followed by a soft, dull beeping. Dani stood straight, tugging her tunic down.

"Computer," she said, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. "Deactivate the containment field in the main shuttle bay. Authorization Janeway Gamma Delta 4." Within a nanosecond, the explosive decompression lurched Voyager forward, and Dani pitched forward to her hands and knees, while Shannon was nearly plastered against the console.

"_Containment field deactivated."_

"Dani, incoming message," Shannon said. At her sister's hand signal, she opened a channel for it.

The main viewscreen polarized to reveal the face of the Borg Queen, smug for a nanosecond and then baffled, before she blanked her expression. Her questing eyes found the bridge empty, but for the two. "We did not…expect this," she admitted.

"Did you see the Borg popsicles?" Dani asked, as she walked over where she'd slaughtered the once-human Borg who had assimilated Naomi. She squatted down, resting both elbows on her knees on the spot where the drone had fallen. The drone had disintegrated as it was designed leaving the bloody tool behind.

She raised the engineering tool to peer at the Borg Queen through its tritanium tines and offered her most self-righteous grin. "You underestimated us."

"But it is a trivial matter," the Queen said. "Your unexpected move has thrown you once again within reach of our tractor beam. We will send the entire crew complement of one Borg cube—five thousand drones—if we must."

Trying to stall for time, Dani returned to the command chair, wiping the phase compensator on her pant leg as she went. "My Borg mother won't like this," she said, waving the bloodied phase compensator at the Queen. "This was a wedding anniversary gift from the Captain." She brought it to eye level. "The inscription says 'My Darling Seven, use this in good health. Love, Kathryn."

Dani rubbed the words with her thumb, looking up at the Borg Queen. "Seven of Nine is going to—"

"Seven of Nine…" the Borg Queen sneered, "…has been re-assimilated."

Dani narrowed her eyes. The Borg Queen lifted a brow, a small smirk curling the corner of her mouth. "We were always aware of her coordinates, and that of Captain Janeway."

Dani was quiet for a second too long, she knew. But in the end, she laughed out loud, trying to be braver than she felt. "You really didn't believe I'd fall for that lame-ass ploy, did you?"

The Borg Queen's eyes glittered in anger. "It is time for you to witness the full measure of Borg power."

Just then a message from Kateri Gilmore flashed onto her console: "Captain, am en route to holodeck one—simulation in progress."

Dani jumped to her feet, renewing the interest of the Borg Queen. "You had your chance," she said, touching her commbadge. "Janeway to Gilmore!"

"_Kateri here, Captain."_

"Is Galen with you?"

"_I'm here, Dani. But I should be in sickbay—"_

"Later, Doctor. Right now, I need you to summon the fireflies. Kateri, get the hell out of the holodeck."

As she was issuing her last order, another green message began to scroll over her visual center again. _"Tell Galen to alter the holoprogram to surround the entire holodeck with mirrors."_

A blood vessel felt like it had burst in Dani's temple and the throbbing made her cringe. But she ordered the alteration, with the Doctor taking it all in stride. "Now I'm an interior decorator," he mumbled. "If I had known I could have added feng shui subroutines for this lovely battle."

Dani's head fell back. "Just make the change, Doctor. Janeway out."

Dani tugged her tunic down and strode confidently to the middle of the bridge, holding the radiating eyes of the Borg Queen. "This is your last chance," Dani said, with a hint of mockery.

The Borg Queen straightened full frame. Her confidence in overwhelming numbers seemed to be returning. Instead of inquiring about Voyager's plan, the Borg Queen merely continued on her earlier tact. "We shall designate you Five of Seven."

"Shannon, status of the inertial dampeners?"

"Dampeners are online."

"Number of intruders?"

"_Fifty."_

"Damn," she muttered to herself. Or so she thought, until the Borg Queen spoke.

"Do you not like your new designation, Five of Seven?" the Borg Queen asked. "We believe it is quite clever."

Dani's hand stopped midway to the console as she looked up at the looming image of the Borg Queen on screen. "Not as much as I like _your_ new designation."

The Queen tipped her head to one side. Dani wasn't sure whether she was receiving telemetry from the remaining Borg online or if she was genuinely intrigued.

"Which is?" the Queen asked finally asked.

"Toast," Dani said with a triumphant smile.

The Borg Queen tipped her head to one way and then the other. Dani could tell she was having a hard time understanding the comment. In the end, she dismissed it, opting for another strike. "Send more drones," she ordered in a monotone.

Dani grimaced, an expression the Borg Queen misunderstood. "Now you will not be able to hide Seven of Nine's other subunit from me. I shall have you both."

Dani slammed the control, severing communications with the Borg Queen. She looked up to see 20 Borg shimmering onto Voyager's deck. "Dammit!" she growled.

The sisters backed into each other, as the Borg formed a circle on the bridge. "This was your plan?" Shannon asked.

The 20 Borg formed a perfect circle and began to close in on the pair. Dani threw the phase compensator at one of them. "You were supposed to fire on us! Not send more drones!" she wailed, as they closed in on the pair.

=/\=

On the moon's charred surface on a ledge out of a large network of caves with the last vestige of flowing water, Captain Kathryn Janeway and what remained of her gathered crew blinked furiously as they tried to gauge with their senses the death stage of the dying blue giant. At its zenith in the sky, it loomed larger than the moon's main planet, a billowy orange and white, ringed planet.

"It's definitely smaller," said Ensign Samantha Wildman.

Janeway looked at Naomi's mother. She appeared to be much thinner, there were hollows under her cheek bones and dark circles around her once vibrant eyes. Her lips were peeling and she barely moved them when she spoke.

"How do you know?" Janeway asked.

Samantha lifted a red and scaly hand to point at the horizon. Their vantage on the mountain giving them a 40 click view. "I've watched every sunrise from this exact spot for the last few days and at its greatest diameter, the sun has expanded from that mountain peak there to that valley here."

Janeway eyed the horizon and saw the points clearly, but was frustrated at the lack of empirical data. "What distance is that, do you think?"

Seven stepped up behind her, lifting the only tricorder among them. "Approximately 96.2 kilometers," she said.

Janeway looked up at the tall woman, her eyes watering from the effort of defying the brilliant light and heat that bore down on them from the dying sun. "So the star is contracting at what rate?"

Seven tapped out a few more keys and then clasped her hands behind her back. "To answer your question, I must estimate several key variables for the star, including, density, temperature and momentum. Those figures—"

"Seven," Janeway said quietly. "Just…the contraction rate, if you please."

Seven lifted a brow and resumed a perusal of the dying star; her Borg implant was able to watch it without adversely affecting her organic systems. "Two standard days," she said flatly.

Her announcement was followed by an ominous silence among the crew members present. All that could be heard was a small wind whipping up pebbles along the face of the mountain.

"However," Seven added. "The margin of error for my calculations could be as much as 50 percent."

Janeway did not hide her surprised look. "So you're saying—?"

"We could have three or four days before the sun goes supernova?" Samantha Wildman asked.

"Yes," she said, earning several sighs of relief from among the gathered crew. "Or we could have one day."

"One day?" someone asked bleakly.

"Or less," Seven replied evenly.

Janeway looked again at each member of her crew. Samantha Wildman buried her face into the crook of Neelix' shoulder and he wrapped an arm wrapped around her, while he whispered something into her ear. She, in turn, wrapped her arms around him.

Marla Gilmore, Chakotay's wife, looked up at the orange sky in the direction that the alien craft had taken her husband and Lt. Paris as stowaways. Lt. B'Elanna Torres walked up beside her and stood shoulder to shoulder with the woman. They peered into each other's eyes but never said a word as they returned to their vigil.

Lt. Harry Kim held both of his wives, one under each arm, as they sobbed quietly into his shoulder. He kissed the temple of each one in turn and squeezed them tighter. "We'll be fine," he said.

Janeway felt a hard lump form in her throat and she tried to clear it out. It only drew the attention of Seven of Nine, who came to stand beside her, allowing nothing to touch the Captain, not shoulder nor hand. "I am unaware," she said softly, "of the social protocol for one's final moments. It has never occurred to me to research such an event."

"Oh, Seven," Janeway replied in a broken whisper. "I don't know that there is an established 'protocol.'"

"As a Borg drone, I saw members of my unit—some with whom I'd shared designations for some time—to merely cease functioning. Those who remained would be disassemble them by the rest of the drones…" Seven paused to look at her wife, searching her face for any sign of disgust or judgment. When none came, she continued. "…and usable parts would be salvaged."

Janeway threaded an arm around Seven's. She led the woman back to the privacy, or darkness, of the cave. "I thought you believed we were going to make it."

Seven patted Kathryn's hand. "I have not altered that belief," she said. "I merely offered a reply with the best data that was available and I further indicated how deeply flawed the data was."

Seven stopped abruptly, causing several couples to nearly bump into them from behind. They murmured their apologies and steered around the pair. "Did I err?"

Janeway scratched her temple with an untended fingernail. "You don't see any contradiction in the data you provided and your belief that we'll survive."

Seven tipped her head, searching Janeway's eyes for a long moment. Janeway could see that Seven was deep in thought, zipping through the gigaquads of data that the woman no doubt stored in her cybernetic systems and all of the engrams that made up the sum of her human existence. Finally, she said: "There is no contradiction," she stated neutrally. "As I understand the concept of faith, it is revered and adhered to, despite a lack of solid empirical data."

Janeway strangled a protest in her throat. "But, darling, you offered your bleak assessment for us all."

"That was but one piece—and a deficient calculation at that," she said. "But there is no data regarding the disposition of our subunits—"

Janeway slammed her eyes closed.

"Nor any indication that Q will not intervene at the eleventh hour—"

Janeway shook her head, but her eyes remained closed.

"Nor any details about Commander Chakotay and Lt. Paris' attempted diplomatic avenues. Furthermore—"

"It could be that we have misclassified this star as Class A, when in fact, it has insufficient mass to go supernova," Seven stated. "I did not have reasonable time aboard Voyager when we first entered this system to do my usually exhaustive analysis."

Janeway opened her eyes, amusement lit there in the blue depths.

Seven lifted a brow. "The star may be classified as Class G with insufficient mass to explode spectacularly, as we fear. It could merely shrink to become a brown dwarf, providing us ample opportunity to escape this moon."

Janeway stared at the Borg woman for so long that Seven finally reached up and touched the woman's cheek. "Kathryn?"

Janeway covered Seven's hand, bringing it to rest against her chapped lips. She kissed first the knuckles and then the palms. "You are a wonder, Seven of Nine," Kathryn said.

Just as they were about to share a kiss, the ground under their feet began to quake. Pebbles began to rain from roof of the cave. Sections of the cave began to fall down, attempting to crush some of her crew.

Janeway ordered the crew outside and away from the mountain.

A yawning fissure began to open under their feet. Steam and volcanic vapor was rising from the bubbling caldera of molten lava that was forming there.

=/\=

The two sisters circled, each behind the other, waiting to see which would attack first. "Computer," Dani said. "Deactivate artificial gravity generators, all decks."

Shannon gave her sister a funny look, just before she felt that lurch of butterflies in her stomach. Soon, the 20 Borg and the two sisters were floating weightlessly about the bridge.

When a Borg floated close to her, Dani pushed off the bulkhead, sending her sailing nearly effortlessly across the expanse of the bridge. "This is your plan?" Shannon said, easily evading Borg tubules when the drone careened into a bulkhead.

"Remember how the Treveti ship fired on us back at the Vashkoi homeworld? The fireflies descended on them like spawn beetles on a slug steak!"

"That's your strategy? Use a bunch of aliens you can't even control or communicate with?"

The computer added insult to injury with its report: "Shields down to 75 percent. Life support down to 85 percent."

Dani knew the shields had remained up, but were a useless contrivance. Just as expected, the modulating Borg transporters had likely materialized thousands of Borg onto the dying ship, 20 on the bridge alone.

"Computer, status of EMH Beta Galen von Behring?" Dani enquired.

"EMH Beta is fully operational."

"Now what?" Shannon asked, navigating past a few more inept Borg.

Dani was barely able to say, as her mind fractured into multiple problem-solving directions. But before a different resolution could present itself, to her enormous relief, Galen von Behring materialized on the bridge, holding a hand-held mirror into which his electrified, holographic eyes peered.

Dani's eyes widened, making Shannon whirl around. "That's impossible," Shannon said, seeing no mobile emitter attached to the EMH's arm. "Look how he glows though," Shannon noted.

Dani thrusted toward him with a simple kick of a foot. Being a hologram, he was standing as if he were in a normal gravity environment.

When Dr. von Behring felt her touch, he opened his mouth to speak. But instead of words, light beamed out, causing the girls to slam their eyes shut and grown from the pain.

When Dani opened her eyes, she found the Doctor staring at her. "Is Galen there?" she asked.

Galen's mouth opened again, but this time, he issued a flurry of garbled words.

"What did he say?" Dani and Shannon asked each other simultaneously.

He repeated himself, but he slurred his words together. "So this is time," von Behring said, gazing around and then back at the mirror. "How strange it is."

"Can you slow down, Galen?" Dani asked.

But Galen was intently watching the Captain's mouth move. He raised a hand to touch Dani's full lips. She tried to pull back but Shannon urged her to allow it.

"He's trying to speak," she said.

Galen ran a fingertip over the lips and then held them there.

"Well, go ahead, Dani," Shannon urged. "Say something else, for Pete's sake."

"Why didn't he touch your lips?" Dani asked crossly.

Galen dropped the holographic hand. "This is indeed time," he said slowly, looking around. Then Galen's glowing eyes looked the pair over, first Shannon and then Dani. "And you are time dwellers."

"We do not inhabit time, as you do," Galen said haltingly. But to Dani, he added: "But you are different—amphibious you are."

"Um, not really," Dani said. "In any event, can you help us out here?"

The question brought a puzzled look to Galen's possessed face. "But we require your help."

Just then several Borg, who had adapted to weightlessness, rammed into Shannon, their tubules flailing wildly as she twisted and dove down to avoid them. "Dammit!" Shannon shouted.

Galen finally understood the threat. He opened his mouth and an explosion of color issued forth, zipping away nearly instantly. Before Dani and Shannon could even inquire, more fireflies invaded the bridge. It seemed as if a hundred fireflies entered each Borg drone, who froze and their faces contorted. Their mouths lolled open and in a split nanosecond, their biological systems were reduced to ashes polluting their remaining electronic systems.

"Are they all gone?" Shannon asked after sneezing.

"Computer, status of intruders?"

"Voyager has no intruders."

"Computer, reinitialize artificial gravity generators—"

"Wait!" Shannon said, from high above the bridge.

Dani fell to her haunches beside Galen, while Shannon plummeted six meters to fall just shy of the bridge railing. "Sorry," Dani said, offering a hand. "You okay?"

"Not assimilated," she said, taking the lift up. "But sore." Shannon tipped her neck to one side and grimaced.

Dani touched a key on the command console. The viewscreen polarized to reveal the Borg Queen, whose seeking eyes appeared to be trying to absorb the new data. Her mouth dropped a nanometer when she saw Dani still standing under own power, without tubules and gray skin. "We are baffled," she admitted.

"Call off your dogs, ma'am," Dani said. "Or you'll get more of the same."

The Borg Queen tipped her head, as if she were listening to her own drones. "Fire all weapons," she ordered simply.

Dani immediately took hold of the armrests, but the blasts of Borg phasers never came. Instead she watched as points of light entered the Borg command center, invading the Borg Queen, whose last look of surprise was seared into the viewscreen before she was reduced to dust.

"Eww, that's gotta hurt!" Dani said, watching the incineration of the Borg Queen on viewscreen.

"These beings are numerous," Galen said.

"Are they dead?" Shannon asked.

Galen, who had been looking at the viewscreen in wonder, turned to Dani. "Dead? We do not understand."

"Life functions have ceased?"

He wiped a finger along the railing, collecting dust to show Captain Janeway. "Their forms were converted, yes."

Dani raised a hand, indicating for Galen von Behring to wait, while she received incoming reports from her crew. Shannon took the Doctor and those who possessed him into the Captain's Ready Room.

=/\=

While dead cubes drifted in the space around them, the U.S.S. Voyager resumed repairs and what medical attention they could give to their wounded, as they waited the orders of their young Captain.

Dani Janeway was standing behind the Captain's desk in a fresh uniform, holding a cup of coffee that she gulped from frequently. Shannon Janeway, Azan and Rebi were also freshly outfitted, with their minor contusions and breaks knitted. The only reminder of a battle was a tiny scar on Shannon's left cheek. They were in semi circle, facing Galen von Behring, who still sported the flaring eyes and ability to materialize at will outside of the medical bay and the holodeck.

"Try again," Dani said to Galen.

"We are the…" Galen opened his mouth but rather than words escaping. It was light once again—hues of red and orange, yellow and green, blue, indigo and violet in straight and curvy streaks.

The five newly-minted Starfleet officers squinted and turned their faces from the stabbing light, waiting for the explosion of colors to subside. When Galen's holographic mouth was done, it closed. A rapturous look remained on his face.

"Yeah," Dani finally said. "That doesn't help. How about if I just call you…Alpha? Will that work? I'm Captain Janeway, by the way, and these are lieutenants Janeway, Rebi and Azan."

Galen's glowing expression shifted to one of confusion. "But our name for ourselves is…." He opened his mouth, but Dani was quick to ward off the move with a raise of her hand.

"That may be your name, but we can't _say_ it. We need a name to call you."

"Galen can say it," the alien inside of Galen said.

"Galen?" Shannon asked. "You can communicate with him?"

"Is he in there?" Dani added, peering into Galen's glowing eyes from numerous directions.

"Yes, we are all here."

"We?"

"It requires many of us to operate him."

"Can I talk to him? Galen, I mean."

Galen's face, so like the original EMH's but with a hairy top, stopped glowing and he began to blink again. "Dani? I'm…I'm…someone is here with me. Many of them, actually."

"They are the beings of light."

"They are…beautiful. So free. Go anywhere. Go anywhen!"

"Galen, I need to know if I can trust them?"

His eyebrows zoomed up into his bleach blond hair. "Are they benign?" he clarified. "Oh, yes. How can they not be?"

"How can they not be?" Shannon asked, crossing her arms in front of her. "They dragged us away from earth for years, killed our crew—it's not so clear—in fact—"

Dani patted Shannon's arm. "Easy there, Shay. We don't want to piss them off."

Galen's face began to glow and his expression changed to one of confusion. "You would not communicate with us," he accused.

"We tried," Dani said. "God! We tried so hard! But you burned our kind from the inside with your…" She gestured to the fireflies that still roamed harmlessly through the ship.

Galen's face turned sad. "We did not understand the nature of matter," he said. "But Galen is different."

"Yes, he is a photonic—composed of pure energy, as you are," Azan said.

"And we could behold him and we could behold ourselves inside of him," he said, lifting the hand-held mirror to admire himself. "It is so new." Alpha touched his own face in awe.

"So let's communicate now," Dani said. "But you have been pushing us away from our home for years—"

"Years?" Alpha asked, dropping the mirror to his side. "We do not understand this word."

"Years, as in measure of time," Dani said.

"Or the time a planet takes to rotate around its sun," Shannon added.

Confusion darkened Alpha's face. "We do not have…years."

"It is all we have," Dani explained. "And you have kept us from our loved ones."

"Loved ones?"

"Our pack, our tribe, our…" Shannon struggled for another word.

"Our collective," Azan supplied unhelpfully.

"Our hive," Rebi added.

"Our…corona?" Alpha supplied with a little help from Galen. "Yes, our collective is a corona."

"Yes, you have harmed our corona," Dani said.

"How?" Alpha asked, clearly troubled.

"You have brought us to this dying star…" Dani pointed to a chart on her console of the dying blue star. "Malevolent aliens captured our ship and took our parents."

"Parents?" Alpha said with a shake of the head.

"Parents—ancestor!" Dani offered.

"Parents are our begetters," Shannon offered, but only received another confused look.

"Our origin," Azan said.

"Our source," Rebi added.

"Supernova," Alpha said. "They are your supernova."

Dani realized that Alpha seemed quite confident in his word choice. "Did Galen give you that word?"

"Yes, new stars are born of dying ones, supernova."

"Okay, that's kinda similar. We'll go with it. So we these malevolent creatures kidnapped our supernova..." She paused and looked at Shannon. "Supernovae?"

Shannon whispered affirmative, letting Dani continue.

Alpha became sad. "Supernovae must give their lives. It is the cycle."

Dani frowned. "Um, that's where the analogy doesn't work, you see. Our supernovae don't die for us…usually."

Alpha's features hardened. "We do not require them, in any event. You will suffice. We have saved you from your enemy."

Dani raised her brows and closed her eyes, gathering her patience. She rubbed her eyes with a finger and thumb. "I should have paid more attention to Ensign Wildman during Xenobiology," she murmured.

Shannon put a hand on her sister's arm. "Wait, Captain," she said. "What exactly do you need us for, anyway?"

"We live in the corona of…" he paused, as if searching for a word. Then he smiled. "Thank you, Galen…yes, we live in the corona of the star. But this one is dying. It cannot sustain us."

"So what, just move to a new one?" Shannon offered.

"It must be similar—mass…density…luminosity—and without other inhabitants."

"Inhabitants?"

"Others our kind," Alpha said. "We remember your circling of a moon, a different moon, in a system with our kind. But they were of a different corona and would not share their space."

"Perhaps he refers to the Boolerai system," Azan said, punching up some numbers on the Captain's console.

"That's were Mom and Cap got married," Dani shared with Shannon.

"Ah, where Cap kicked some caveman's ass in life-and-death soccer," Shannon whispered.

Dani hooked a finger over her lips, trying to keep from laughing. She longed for a cup of coffee, as she stifled a yawn. "Okay, Alpha, so you've been looking for a home and haven't found one in your neighborhood that is ready for move in."

"We have searched far," he said. "Some of us have died in the journey."

"What if I tell you that one of our supernovae—my mom, Seven, to be exact—could probably help you."

Alpha studied her for a moment. "You cannot help us?"

"There are buttons we aren't allowed to push," she lied. "We are younglings."

"Younglings. We do not—"

"Nebulas!" Shannon offered. "That's what we are, compared to the supernovae. But they can and will help you, Alpha."

Dani nodded adamantly.

"But we need your help to get them back."

When Alpha did not respond, Dani added: "They are orbiting a moon near your corona. It's on the way."

"Which moon?"

"Of the ringed planet," Dani said, calling up the stellar charts on her console. She swiveled it around for Alpha to see. "Tell me, Alfie, do you know the aliens of the ringed planet?"

Alpha leaned in close to the screen, his eyes a mere two millimeters from it. "We know them. But they do not perceive us as you do. They live in the world of total darkness."

"The gas giant," Shannon added. "The thick cloud cover of ammonia, hydrogen sulfide, and water."

"No light penetrates it," he said. "It is as if we do not exist."

"The aliens have taken some of our crew, some members of our own corona because you brought us here. Help us get them back and we will help you?" Dani said.

Alpha stood straight, putting him face to face with Dani and the Borg twins. "Our sun is dying, Captain," Alpha said. "There are trillions of us and we are weak—"

"My supernova is the Astrometrics officer," Dani said.

"She'll help you," Shannon added. "She's catalogued hundreds of stars in this quadrant."

"It must be a newly emerging star," he said.

"Help us get her back and she will find you a suitable star for your corona."

"It may be too late," Alpha said, looking up. It was as if he were receiving unknown telemetry from his corona. "The star has begun to collapse and we are some distance away."


	13. Reunion

**A/N: Thank you again for all the reviews. They are fuel to the writing process.**

**Living Daylights**  
**Chapter 12: Reunion**

Captain Dani Janeway sat at the head of the table of the Briefing Room, while the U.S.S. Voyager was being carried by the beings of light back to the dying blue sun. She was flanked immediately by Alpha, the alien who inhabited the secondary Emergency Medical Hologram, known as Dr. Galen von Behring, to the one side and Mezoti to the other. Shannon Janeway, Rebi, Azan and Dukat Wildman were arrayed around the table. Also among them were the children of the Talaxian crew that Mezoti had rescued on her quest to find deuterium among the debris field. And Merkit Devero, the Vashkoi heir. Dani could not forget the one-time love interest, but she would certainly like to.

"So once you strike the transporter dampening field generators here and here," Dani said, referring to a map of the moon. "We'll transport everyone we can out. How fast will the sun go supernova?"

Azan referred to his padd. "I estimate less than an hour."

"That much time, huh?" Dani said with a forced laugh. "Good thing we have fast friends, right Alf?"

He was a bit slow on the banter, but Alpha nodded. "Yes, of course, Captain."

Dani turned to other matters, glancing once at a note on her padd. "Dukat, what's the word on your sister and the other crew members who were assimilated?"

The submerged persona of Dr. von Behring was allowed to reassert his identity within the holographic matrix. "Dani, I believe I can provide you with those details. There eleven crew members—a remarkably low number—when you consider the odds—in any event, the eleven crew members were placed in stasis due to my duties elsewhere."

"So are they assimilated then? And can they be unassimilated, doctor?" Dani asked.

"Yes and yes. The process was nearly complete when we were able to lower their body temperature to arrest the Borg nanoprobes. However, the Chief Medical Officer has the expertise in purging the cybernetic systems."

"Are you saying you can't help my sister?" Dukat asked, the usual edge in his voice sharper than usual.

"When you consider that I'm hosting my own internal 'crew' and the energy requirements to maintain our delicate internal biosphere within my matrix, I'd say I'm unable to devote much other energy to anything but existing—"

"And yammering. You forgot that," Dukat added.

"I'm trying my best!" von Behring said testily. "In fact, if it weren't for me—!"

"It's okay, Doctor," Dani said. "Duke is worried, is all. Mezoti what of—"

"That's it?! Try your best but it's okay if you can't help her now?" Dukat snarled, turning his rage on Dani Janeway. "You never did like Naomi. In fact, you hated her."

Dani gave a pained look, but her voice remained even. The only sign that she was forcing herself to remain calm was the rippling jaw muscles. "Would you let me finish my question to Mezoti?"

Dukat stared at her and finally waved a hand in a sarcastic consent.

"Mezoti, any update on the status of the primary EMH?"

"He remains offline," she said succinctly.

Dani suppressed a sigh. She knew she'd asked the wrong question and when conversing with a Borg, that was conversational suicide. "What is the ETA for his reinitialization?"

Mezoti lifted a brow, referring to her padd, as she did. "Given the amount of damage in sick bay, I would estimate two hours at minimum."

Dani shook her head. "That's not going to work. I want him online post haste. For our crew and for the ones we are about to extract from the moon. Is there any way we can improve the ETA?"

"Perhaps, if Azan and Rebi assisted me—"

"Done!" Dani said. "I'll put Kateri on ops and move Shannon to security."

"_Bridge to Captain."_

"Janeway here."

"ETA to the Class A giant is less than 5 minutes."

"Understood. Remember not to power up the engines. I don't want to trigger another kidnapping! Janeway out."

"_Aye, Captain."_

As Dani stood up, she glanced around. "Any last questions?"

"What about me and my father?" Merkit asked.

"We're going to rescue everyone, Merkit."

She gave Dani a dirty look. "I want to remain aboard the Talaxian ship. They seem to be better prepared."

"Better prepared?" Shannon growled.

Dani put a hand on her sister's forearm. "As you wish, princess."

Merkit followed the Talaxians out while Dani made her way to the bridge.

"You have rotten taste," Shannon whispered to her sister's back.

"I know," she whispered back.

=/\=

On the bridge, Captain Janeway took up the command chair, with Alpha seated beside her at the First Officer's station.

"Captain to all hands, the fireflies" she offered an apologetic look to Alpha when he frowned at the name his kind had been given. "…have brought us safely back to the moon where the rest of our crew is marooned. The retrieval operation begins on my mark. Talaxian crew, we are dropping shuttle bay containment. Get in position."

"Alf," she said. "It's your show."

Alpha stood and opened his mouth, rays of light burst forth. On the viewscreen, the moon was bathed with a halo of light from the fireflies.

"_Get ready, transporter."_

"We're ready, sir."

=/\=

Earlier somewhere on the moon's surface, Captain Kathryn Janeway and her crew had limped or were dragged to the base of the mountain that had been their home and their only source of water. The collapsing sun remained unrelentingly hot.

"Let's try to make some shade," Janeway ordered. "We are surrounded by wood, after all."

The remnants of a forest, perhaps even the one that she and Seven had first found themselves, littered the plain with dry trunks stabbing the dry black soil of the moon like ghastly fingers.

"Captain," Seven said as Janeway tried to unsuccessfully knock a trunk over.

Seven took hold of the tree trunk with her Borg appendage and heaved it out by its dry roots. Janeway huffed a small laugh. "You make that look so easy."

"It was," she said. "I am Borg."

Janeway tried to smile, but the effort was painful on her burned skin. But one look at Seven sobered her. "What's wrong, Seven?"

Seven turned to face east. "We have Borg on approach," she said, looking down at her tricorder. "ETA thirty minutes."

She stared at the shimmering mirage of water in the distance. Through it, there were at least six bobbing heads. Janeway glanced around. Nearly 75 percent of the remaining crew was either injured or sick. That left twenty of them to defeat six Borg. "The odds are in our favor," she said, after a coughing fit.

Seven took the trunk from Janeway's shaking hands. "Allow me to form weapons," she said.

"We're going to need them," Janeway murmured.

=/\=

Sweat poured down Janeway's face, stinging the tender skin that was slowly sizzling under the hot blue sun. Her undershirt was dark brown, with large wet stains under her arms. The Captain used a tree trunk to prop herself up. But still she stood regal among nineteen crewmembers, including Seven of Nine at her side, who had formed a line to defend the sick and dying behind them from the coming Borg line.

Janeway heard some of her crew behind her cough and she turned to see them. Tears stung her eyes at the sight of her crew, some with gaping wounds. Others were clearly ill, pale despite the peeling skin.

"Damn," Janeway whispered, as she watched Lt. Kristine Fernandez, already skeletal by any standard, heave to one side to vomit the little moisture left in her system.

"They are here, Kathryn," Seven replied. She was wielding a club in both hands and she kept trying to elbow her wife behind her.

Janeway glared down at the possessive Borg elbow in front of her. "I can take…care of…myself," she wheezed.

Seven lifted a brow, but gave way to the Captain. "I am aware of your capabilities, Captain," she said.

"Remember, everyone…we are going to make it out of here!" she said through a coughing fit.

Though there were just six of Borg drones, they appeared to be in better shape than the Voyager. Like Seven of Nine, their nanoprobes had evidently repaired any sun-burn damage, leaving their sickening pasty gray skin totally intact.

"They look like they just stepped off a Borg cube cruise," B'Elanna Torres sneered. Though blessed with a genetic heritage that included dark skin from both lines, even B'Elanna was sporting a painful sunburn, with large sections peeling back on her forehead.

"Ready now!" Janeway said in a raspy voice.

A man stepped to Janeway's left, nodding at her once. "Captain," he said in a gruff voice.

She was surprised to see Crewman Antonin Gennaro beside her. Though they'd managed to patch up their working relationship after his attempted kidnapping more than 7 years ago, they'd never made it escalated their personal relationship beyond acquaintance.

"Antonin," she said without hiding her surprise. "I didn't know you'd found us."

"Aye, Captain," he said, wiping the sweat of his brow. "And I'm proud to make the last stand by your side."

She inhaled sharply at the deep, but misplaced compliment. "And I'm proud to have you," she said. "Though I think we'll be around longer than these Borg."

He chuckled, stepping out from the defensive line to take the first swing at a Borg drone. The brittle club shattered into a million pieces when it encountered the drone's bare head, but not before damaging its eyepiece and other connections.

The drone faltered, after losing its binocular vision. It peered down to watch its steps up a small slope, stumbling forward because it could not accurately gauge distance without two eyes.

The other drones adapted easily to block similar blows with a casual lift of their elbows. Unfortunately, the clubs all splintered regardless. But more clubs were unleashed in surprising ways. Seven of Nine used hers as a battering ram, impaling one of her former hive members.

As it froze still gripping the club that pierced its tenderly organic torso, Seven slipped behind it to mercifully snap its neck. As the drone slid down her body, its red blood painted her biosuit with a wide swath. When its head reached her knees, she sympathetically caressed its head, a whisper of apology leaving lips.

Seven looked up in time to see that three Borg drones had successfully overcome twelve other weakened crewmembers. Crewman Gennaro stumbled back, a graying hand covering two puncture marks at neck. There were six others who already lay beside him, in various stages of Borg transformations.

Seven's eyes searched around her and finally she found the Captain, surrounded by two drones, their assimilation tubules waving dangerously close to the Captain's skin. Seven leapt up, stumbling along the loose gravel, the large rocks and the bodies of crewmen and drones to reach her Captain.

The Captain was paralyzed by a coughing fit, as two predatory Borg relentlessly loomed closer.

"Kathryn!" Seven said, as assimilation tubules loomed menacingly close to her wife's neck.

In that moment, the entire plain of the moon was flooded with a light that seemed to rival the dying blue sun itself. Before Seven could reach the threatening Borg, so many fireflies entered the bodies of the three drones that their organic systems were cremated instantaneously

She looked up to see that all of the Borg had been incinerated, but none of the Voyager crew. "Curious," Seven said, just before she began see the moon disappear behind the sparkles of the transporter beam.

=/\=

Captain Dani Janeway and the other junior officers on the bridge watched the viewscreen intently, though nothing but a shrinking blue star and a charred moon could be seen.

"Captain to Arick Kim."

"_Kim here."_

"Transporter Status, Arick?"

"_I am just beaming the last crewmembers now, Captain."_

Dani shared a frightened look with her sister Shannon, who sat at the security console. "How many did we get?"

Just then, the bridge door slid open to reveal a ragged, disheveled and tattered Kathryn Janeway, Seven of Nine, Commander Tuvok and Lt. Harry Kim.

"Captain on deck!" Shannon, sitting at the security station, shouted.

All of the young officers jumped to their feet at full attention.

The sense of pride of starched Kathryn's back. "As you were," she said, limping down to the command chair. The other senior officers came to stand near their assigned stations, waiting for all Starfleet courtesies, while the junior officers resumed their duties.

"_300, including the Talaxian vessels though I'd wager only 75 percent are actually our people,"_ Arick said.

Dani looked up and opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it closed suddenly. She nodded to her Captain-mother.

"As you were, _Captain_," Kathryn repeated.

With that green light, Dani pressed on. "Casualties and wounded?"

"_Eight-two wounded, sir."_

"Have our people and the Talaxian freighter crew been sorted?"

"_Aye, Captain. All Voyager crew present and counted for."_

"And the Vashkoi?"

"_They have been beamed aboard the Talaxian freighter."_

"Good. Janeway out." Dani looked expectantly to her Captain mother, who right on cue barked a gravelly one-word command: "Report."

Dani reiterated the first contact with the fireflies, and with the help of Dr. von Behring, assisted in the rescue mission. "The Class A sun is imploding," she said, reaching out her hand for a padd. Dukat automatically supplied it. With a brief glance at it, Dani continued. "ETA to supernova is 20 minutes."

"20 minutes?" Janeway said.

"That is insufficient time to leave the system," Tuvok said.

"Sir, the fireflies have agreed to transport both the Talaxian vessel to Vashkoi and Voyager to a safe distance. They are awaiting our orders through Alf here."

Dani patted the holograms shoulder.

"Let's go," Janeway rasped. "Janeway to engineering."

"_Engineering here, Captain Janeway. Good to hear your voice."_

"Thank you, Miral. Is your mother there?"

"_Yes, we're both here, Captain,"_ B'Elanna said, her voice infused with maternal pride.

"Cut all engines, we're about to get a ride from the fireflies."

"_Aye, Captain,"_ Miral and her mother said jointly.

"Status of inertial dampeners, Mr. Wildman?"

Dukat punched a key on his console. "Inertial dampeners are online, Captain?"

"What is the hull integrity?"

Shannon keyed something on her console. "Hull integrity stands at 89 percent."

Janeway gave her daughter a satisfied look. "We are ready, Dani—, pardon, I mean Captain Janeway. Would you care for the honors?"

"Yes, Captain," she said. "Captain Janeway to Talaxian freighter."

"This is _Captain Herbix." _

"Captain, I believe you have your crew and children."

"_Yes, Captain, thank you so much for everything you have done for us and our children. Our debt to you and your crew is immeasurably."_

"'We do not stand alone, Captain Herbix,'" Dani replied, using the traditional Talaxian greeting as a reply.

"'_On this day we are thankful to be together,_'" Herbix answered in kind. "_May we all celebrate Prixin together very soon."_

"Good luck, Captain."

"_And you. Herbix out."  
_

Dani felt her mother's hand take her own and she grabbed it, while maintaining her train of thought. "Okay, Alfie, let's get the hell out of here."

"Attention all hands," Dani said over the comm. "Prepare for jump to near light speed. On my mark…."

Everyone on the bridge braced themselves against the railing or a console and chair. "Mark," Dani said.

The ship jumped away, rattling and whining from the extreme G forces that the fireflies were propelling it to.

Five sectors away, for more than 100 light years, Voyager came to a full stop to observe the supernova, using whatever equipment was available to record the event so close.

=/\=

In Astrometrics, Kathryn downed a cup of water, followed by a second, as Alf conversed pleasantly with Tuvok and Seven of Nine near the Astrometrics station.

The Chief Medical Officer had finally cornered Captain Janeway here, after all of the other crewmembers had been seen.

"Would you hold still?" the Chief said, as Kathryn tried to squirm away from the dermal regenerator.

"Later," she said.

But the Chief captured her hand. "Now, Captain."

She glared at him. "von Behring's holomatrix is beginning to fade, Doctor. You of all people should know what that means."

"You're dehydrated and exhausted, Captain. I can mitigate those symptoms for a brief time, if you'll let me."

"Can't you take care of the others?"

"Other than the crewmembers in stasis, you're the last one—surprise, surprise!"

She closed her eyes as the dermal regenerator passed over her lips. It felt heavenly just to be free of the burning pain. Its whine ceased and she opened her eyes in time to see him lay it on a workstation beside them. "Now doesn't that feel better, Captain?"

"No, it was fine before that," she lied convincingly.

The Chief smirked. "Just two more hyposprays and we're done, for the moment."

She tipped her head, offering her neck for the injections. "What's in these?"

"Anamazine—a _temporary_ relief for the fatigue, and good old saline solution for the dehydration. There we go. How does that feel?"

She straightened out and zipped her tunic. "I'm fine," she said. "What is the status of the assimilated crewmembers?"

The Doctor's face turned dark. "They are next, since they were in stasis. Though I don't anticipate any complications, given our history of un-assimilating crew, you never know, particularly with crewmembers so young."

"Keep me posted," she said.

"I think you should come by sick bay after you're done here," he said.

She paused, a serious expression on her now-healed face. "Oh?"

"Dani refuses to leave sick bay until Naomi's system is purged."

Her expression softened. "I'll do my best."

=/\=

Captain Kathryn Janeway felt so much better she bounded toward the trio. Tuvok merely lifted a disapproving brow but did not comment. The move was lost on the alien dubbed Alpha.

"Alpha, we cannot give you enough thanks for your assistance—both for our children and for ourselves."

"Your gratitude has been repaid already now that we have the coordinates of a new star, thanks to your crewmember Seven of Nine."

"We are glad that we could help you," Seven replied.

"But…" Janeway offered quickly. "We wondered about one last request."

Alpha leaned forward, receptive to her question.

"Could you give us a lift home?"

When he did not immediately balk, Janeway asked Seven to pull up the star charts for Alpha to see.

"And our new home is where?"

Sector Zero Zero One and the fireflies' new home were as far apart as one entire quadrant. Alpha studied the map and Janeway held her breath.

"To carry you so far, members of my corona will be too far to return to us."

Janeway blew out a breath. "Meaning what, exactly?" she asked quietly.

Alpha seemed to be searching for the right word to convey the meaning, when Seven offered her own interpretation. "They will be going to their death?" she asked bluntly.

"What is death?" Alf asked, looking between the three humanoids.

"It's when you cease to exist?" Janeway replied.

The reply brought a puzzled look to Alpha. "But we do not cease," he said. "We convert to pure energy."

"This conversion is a normal process?" Tuvok inquired.

"Yes, and it is an acceptable exchange we can offer you. We will take you home."

Janeway was silent for a long moment, disbelief warring with elation. "I don't have the words to convey to you how grateful we are other than the simple, 'thank you, Alpha.' Please tell all of your kind."

Alpha was quiet for a moment; von Behring's holomatrix blinked in and out for a moment. Then Alpha replied: "That is done."

"Voyager's journey will be longer than any other that we have attempted. Your ship's structure and system will be greatly taxed. Your own matter may be pushed to the limit," Alpha warned. "We had not realized that the material beings were so…frail."

"We are grateful for your help," Janeway replied. "And we stand ready."

"Further, we are not very familiar with your navigation, but we will get you as close as possible to your world."

"Thank you, Alpha."

"Good bye, Captain."

As the light began to leak out of the hologram, the holographic doctor began to flicker. There was a look of distress on his face.

"Captain, we are losing holographic integrity," B'Elanna said.

"We're losing Galen?" Janeway asked.

"They're symbiotic now," Seven replied after running her tricorder over him.

"Come back," Janeway shouts.

The light seemed to strain to reintegrate into Galen von Behring. "This was an unintended side effect, Captain," he said. "That's what Alpha believes."

"Let's transfer him to the holodeck," Janeway ordered.

"There is no time to debate," von Behring said just as the Captain began to punch a series of keys.

"But we can't leave you," she said, still concentrating on the console.

"I am ready to convert to pure light, Captain."

Janeway paused her hand in mid-air and finally looked at the holographic doctor. "But Doctor, your holo matrix and programming will be destroyed!"

"I am more than the sum of my programming. Ask the Chief."

"Let him go, Captain," the Chief said.

"But…"

"It's my choice," Galen replied. "You recognized my sentience and I thank you. But that recognition means you cannot save me from my choice. I want this."

"I will be recommending you for The Starfleet Decoration of Gallantry. It will be in your records."

He smiled sadly. "Thank you for the gesture, Captain." His voice began to echo.

Janeway gets everyone to salute him. "Dr. Galen von Behring, I relieve you of service."

"I stand relieved. Good bye, Kathryn and tell Dani that I'll miss her."

"She'll miss you!" she shouted to empty space.

=/\=

Captain Janeway unzipped her tunic as she entered sickbay. The main lights were darkened, but the running lights remained on. The Chief was sitting in his office, reviewing a padd. She saw Dani sitting beside one of the figures on the biobed. Her head was resting on an old-fashioned notebook at the foot of the mattress.

As she approached, Kathryn realized that her daughter was holding vigil over Naomi Wildman.

She stood at the end of the biobed for a long moment, watching the vital signs take their rhythmic count of the patient. Soon, Dani lifted her head; the side of her face was wrinkled from the pages of what looked to be a brown journal.

"Naomi looks a lot less…gray, don't you think?"

Dani looked back, even as she rubbed one of her eyes. "She does," she said, almost with a surprised lilt.

"We've got the best Doctor in the quadrant," Janeway said, but then she leaned forward a bit to whisper: "But don't tell him I said that."

"I heard that!" the Chief called from his office nearby.

Dani chuckled and her mother smiled and then softened her expression. "How are you doing, kid?"

The smile vanished. She stood up before answering. "I'm okay."

"What's that?" Janeway gestured toward the unusual handwritten pages.

Dani slammed it closed quickly and cinched it with an elastic band. "Oh, nothin', just a journal."

Janeway stepped closer, adjusting Dani's command red tunic and the four pips at her collar. "I am so very proud I'm about to burst out of my own jacket."

"Thanks," she mumbled. "But I don't think I did so good." The last bit was lost in a scratchy voice.

"Why would you say that? Voyager is here and we are together."

"Naomi is hurt, Cap! She was assimilated to save me, Cap!"

Janeway put an arm around her daughter, realizing for the first time that the little scamp had grown another eight centimeters at least. "Oh, darling," she said, cradling the girl's head in one arm. "I completely understand."

"You do?"

"Of course, I do. No matter how hard I try, I can't prevent my crew from getting hurt or worse."

"Worse?" she muttered. "God, I don't even want to think about that."

"Nor do I, but starship captains face death every day. I face death every day."

Dani's shiny eyes looked into Cappie's, a single tear escaping. "I don't want to think about that either."

"I know, baby. Being a starship captain is a heavy burden."

"No one would listen unless I threatened them."

"Well, I did hear you'd promised to throw several of them in the brig."

"It wasn't my fault. Shannon wouldn't listen, Cap!"

"Shannon. And Naomi, twice!"

Dani frowned.

"The brig isn't always the answer. But, to be fair to you, you were also dealing with a crew unused to Starfleet discipline."

"I'll say!"

Janeway smile was shaky.

"What?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, Dani. But you sounded just like me there for a second."

A corner of Dani's mouth quirked up. "Yeah, Shannon said the same thing during our argument in the corridor. I think she wanted to make me mad."

"Did it make you mad?"

"No," she whispered. "It made me feel like you were right here." She pressed a palm to her chest.

"Oh, Dani. That's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me."

"It's true."

"And I am. In here. Always." She covered Dani's hand for a second. "And you and your crew should and will be commended and you and Naomi will have another argument at any moment."

Dani looked down at the sleeping figure. "You think?"

"I know."

The Captain tugged Dani's hand. "C'mon," she whispered. "Mom is waiting for us and we've got a big day tomorrow."

Dani's inquisitive eyes had the Captain added: "The fireflies are taking us home…all the way home."

Dani crushed Kathryn in a tight embrace. "Oh, Cappie," she whispered. "You did it."

"We did it, m'darling," she said. Kathryn pulled back. "We _all_ did it! Or we will tomorrow."

Dani took one last glance at Naomi.

"The Doctor says she'll be fine, Dani."

=/\=

The next morning on the bridge, Captain Janeway and the rest of the crew looked no more worse for their marooned moon experience, though Kathryn had awakened still immensely drowsy and very sore.

The senior staff members were all at their stations. Even Chakotay and Lt. Paris, who'd each suffered at least ten bone breaks in their fall from the alien ship, were on the bridge, over the objection of the Chief Medical Officer.

"All hands," the Captain announced. "We are about begin the final leg of our journey home. When we began this endeavor, fourteen years ago, we were two separate crews with two separate ships and two separate captains. Now we serve as the Federation's only ambassadors in the Delta Quadrant aboard Starfleet's only generational ship. We number nearly 300 and today will all see our homeworlds. Godspeed to us all! Tuvok, go to yellow alert. Mr. Paris, dead center and onward to home."

"Aye, Captain," Tom said, pressing buttons.

At the right time coordinates, the fireflies began to rush the ship. There were more than any of them had ever seen before, completely blanking out the ship's viewscreen for at least 3 parsecs peripheral.

The acceleration was so rapid that the entire crew merely passed out.

=/\=

Kathryn Janeway opening her eyes, her cheek was hard pressed against the grate of the deck plating. She rubbed her jaw and pushed herself up from one knee. "Report!"

She tipped her head to one side and then the other, trying to stretch the sore muscles, as she stood. It was as if she'd just run a marathon. Looking around, the rest of the crew seemed to be experiencing the same lethargy and muscle strain. Chakotay and Lt. Paris could barely move, while the others were tugging at their own limbs to work out the knots.

"Helm, what's our position?" she barked again.

Tom blinked and nearly fell beside his chair, rather than into it. He finally flopped down, pressing keys at the helm console as he did. "Captain, I am pleased to report that we are 10 light years from Sector Zero Zero One. The Delphic Expanse is just behind us."

"The Delphic Expanse?" Lt. Kim said. "That's just 50 light years from Earth."

"Approximately one month's travel at maximum warp," Tuvok said.

"Recheck your readings, Tom," Janeway said, standing over his shoulder as he refreshed his calculations.

Tom sat back and smiled broadly. "Readings are confirmed, Captain."

Janeway looked up at Seven, who nodded her agreement. She patted Tom's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Tom. I'm just having a hard time believing it."

"Believe it, Captain," Chakotay said from his seat. "We are one month's journey away from home."

The tension in Janeway's face drained, and elation took its place. She glanced over at the science station to share a look of pure joy with Seven.

"Commander Chakotay, any reports of injuries from the rest of the crew," she said, still looking at Seven.

"No, Captain. All sectors reporting in now. Some crewmembers are groggy and sore, but that is the extent of it."

"Mr. Kim, what is the time index?"

"Captain, we've been unconscious for about ninety minutes."

"What about ship's systems?"

"All systems go," Chakotay reported.

"Mr. Paris, plot a course home. Best possible speed. Steady as she goes."

"Aye, Captain."

=/\=

That night, Kathryn was lying in bed face down, her body angled toward the middle. Her bare back uncovered, with the sheet wrapped around her legs and the top of her head snug against Seven's shoulder. Kathryn's her red pajama top discarded on the floor beside the bed.

Seven was waist-down nude, her legs twined with Kathryn's, skewing her body at the same off-kilter angle on the mattress. Half of her head was hanging over the edge. Both of them sound asleep until Seven nearly tumbled overboard.

She jerked awake, which brought the Captain to full consciousness. Janeway bolted up on all fours and surveyed the room. With a sigh of relief, she fell back to the mattress, bouncing into a place just beside the lanky Borg. Janeway hand came to rest on the dark blonde stubble sprouting on Seven's head.

"I apologize for waking you," Seven said, adjusting herself to cover Kathryn's bare back with a hand. She began to rub the bare skin under her palm.

"Hmm," Janeway said, rolling over to offer herself for the sensual rub. "I'm sorry I fell asleep on us."

"As am I," the Borg replied, as she nuzzled her lips against the shell of Kathryn's ear. "I do not believe I have ever been overcome by unconsciousness in that way, not even when a Borg alcove was my sole method of regeneration."

Kathryn rolled over to face the Borg, her fingertips lightly teasing the nipple peak that strained against the satiny top. "I'll bet you never felt this in a Borg alcove before…." She rubbed her thumb into the nipple. It pebbled immediately.

Seven slammed her eyes shut and her body arched into the touch.

"You are correct, Kathryn," Seven managed to say. "I must remember to thank the doctor for removing 85 percent of my Borg implants, allowing for me to regenerate recumbent. It is most conducive to copul—to sexual intercourse."

Kathryn chuckled. "You're learning, my love," she whispered, her attention still caught up in the taut and swollen peak under her palm.

Seven palmed the back of Kathryn's head, urging her mouth closer to the point of need. Kathryn fumbled with the antiquated buttons, her hands shaking in the process. "I believe I'm out of practice, Seven," she said, barely halfway through down.

Seven abruptly sat up and raised the shirt over her head, folding it four times until it was a neat square. Then she laid it on the table beside the bed, turning to offer her fulsome breasts to her wife's care.

Kathryn murmured her approval as Seven laid back. She palmed one breast, while her tongue flicked out to tease the tip of the other.

Seven parted her legs and she urged Kathryn on top of her. "Anxious are we?" Kathryn whispered.

"We have not had sexual intercourse—"

"Sex, my darling. Good, old-fashioned _sex_—"

The last word was uttered in a deep, gravelly voice, whose timbre made Seven cream copiously. The physiological reaction gave pause to Seven's response, but she finally did manage to say: "We have not engaged in sex since stardate 61231.82."

Kathryn pushed herself up slightly, her eyes still taking in the large globes with their swollen pink peaks. "Poor baby," she purred.

Kathryn's hand snaked down, caressing the taut belly and soft, triangle of down between the woman's legs.

Seven repeatedly thrusted her pelvis up to meet Kathryn's mischievous fingers. With a throaty laugh, Kathryn relented. "All right, darling, all right," she said, allowing a single digit to enter the moist center. "Oh, Seven," she whispered. Every breath blowing across the saturated peak. "You're so…so…ready…"

Seven tried to impale herself on Kathryn's errant finger, but it remained elusive. "My excitation…!"

Kathryn inserted another finger, earning a soundless "oh" from the former Borg drone. "Is that the spot?" Kathryn inquired needlessly.

Seven's body was a taut bow string, straining desperately for more contact with her lover's fingers.

"Darling…" Kathryn chided.

"Do not delay, Kathryn," Seven ordered, making the Captain chuckle against the woman's ear.

Kathryn licked and nipped down Seven's long neck, coming to face her. "We've got the rest of the night."

Seven seized Kathryn's hand and tried to rub it against her swollen center, but Kathryn allowed it to go limp. "Uh uh uh, Seven," she scolded playfully. "That's insubordination. Do you know what happens to insubordinates?"

"Demonstrate it," Seven implored.

Just as Kathryn was about to take pity on her overworked and under-pleasured wife, she was hailed from the bridge.

"_Bridge to Captain."_

Seven's face turned to sheer agony and Kathryn strangled a protest in her throat.

"_Kim to Captain Janeway."_

She murmured a remorseful dammit into Seven's shoulder before she untangled herself from the still strumming Borg.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, sharper than she intended.

"_Captain, there are four ships on a vector intercept course," Mr. Kim reported. _

Kathryn bolted upright, her throbbing need sublimated. "What's their signature?"

"_It's Starfleet, ma'am!"_ His voice cracked.

Janeway smiled, her teeth showing bright. "That's good news, lieutenant. I'll be right there. Janeway out."

She jumped out of bed and stood, stretching her entire half naked body. She looked back to find a sullen Seven of Nine, her legs still parted. She nudged one of her knees. "C'mon," she said. "We'll finish later."

To anyone else, Seven's look would have seemed blank and stoic. But not to Kathryn Janeway. She recognized the strain of the interruption. _Hell, I feel the strain of interruption_, the Captain thought.

"Promise," she said, leaning over to give Seven's unhappy lips a quick peck. "C'mon. I need you."

Seven whipped the sheet from around her and jumped to her feet. "I shall hold you to your word."

"You do that," she said, entering the ensuite to ready herself.

=/\=

Moments later, just before they exited their quarters, the girls' door slid open, revealing two girls, both bleary eyed and yawning. "Where you going?" Dani asked.

"To the bridge," the Captain said. "We've had contact with Starfleet ships."

Both girls perked up, but their excitement was nowhere near the one that the Captain kept tightly bottled inside.

"We will remain on the bridge for the foreseeable future," Seven said. "Perhaps you should consider collecting some things to stay with…"

The scowl on both of her daughters' faces drained the energy from Seven's suggestion to stay with the Samantha Wildman and her family.

Seven shared a look with the Captain and then she decided on a different tact. "We will return to our quarters at the earliest opportunity. You will resume your normal duties, following your ante meridiem meal. If you require any assistance—"

"Mom, I _think _we can take care of ourselves, you know," Dani said.

"We know," the Captain said softly. "We're mothers and _we_ feel better reminding you."

"You must also 'deal' with _our_ insecurities," Seven said with a warning lift of her brow.

The girls bestowed a kiss on each of their parents' cheeks. "Okay," Dani said. "Go get 'em."

=/\=

Captain Kathryn Janeway took the stairs down to the command chair two steps at a time. "Report?"

"There are five ships, all with Starfleet warp signatures on a vector heading," Lt. Harry Kim said, vacating the command chair for the third-shift watch.

"Warp signature verified?" Janeway asked.

"Verified," Tuvok answered from behind her.

She nodded once. "Go on."

"Their speed is off the warp scale," Lt. Kim added. "Their formation is peculiar." He turned and long-range sensors to display the ship formation.

Janeway's eyes misted slightly. "That, dear Harry," she said, her voice cracking. "Is the 'Missing Man' formation."

She looked up at Seven. "They're coming for us."

The brief moment of celebration was gone, and Captain Janeway who, along with her crew, had experienced countless let downs on the long journey home, became concerned with practical matters. "Can we hail them?"

"They are still out of range."

"Raise shields." She looked around. "General Order 12. When communications have not been established—"

"Captain, they are hailing us," Mr. Tuvok reported.

"Belay that last. Onscreen."

"It's voice data only."

"Let's hear it, Mr. Tuvok."

"_U.S.S. Valkyrie to Voyager. This is Captain Marika Sul."_

"Captain Kathryn Janeway. Good to hear your voice Captain."

"_It is my distinct honor to be the first to welcome you home."_

Captain Janeway stared at the blank viewscreen a long moment. Whispers of disbelief and elation among the bridge crew finally brought her back. "Thank you, Captain Sul. Those are words we've been waiting for more than a decade to hear."

"_With our new warp engines, the Valkyrie, along with the Bellerophon, Galatea, T'Pau and Kahlo, will intercept your location in approximately three weeks, at maximum warp."_

"Three weeks?" the exclamation was heard across the bridge.

"_As we close our position, we'll transmit more. But I am sending along a data stream for the crew that includes letters we've collected since we last had contact. Once again, welcome home. Captain Sul out."_

The bridge officers erupted in a cheer. Janeway started to shake the hands of Bridge crew, but quickly gave up and descended on anyone with open arms. The very last person was Seven of Nine. They met on the upper deck. "We're home, darling," she said, scarcely able to utter the words without misting her eyes.

Seven flung her arms around the shorter woman. "I have been home for fourteen years, Kathryn," she whispered.

The Captain's shiny eyes looked into hers. "Oh, Seven," she replied. "You say the loveliest things. Did you know that?"

Seven kissed her lips gently. "Welcome home, Pips."

The End

**A/N: An epilogue will follow this chapter. **


	14. Acquisition

**A/N: I goofed up. As I was finalizing what was supposed to have been the epilogue of Living Daylights, I realized that the some of the scenes were extremely important to the overall plot. So I had to re-write it and break it apart from the Epilogue fluff. **

**That means you get an extra chapter AND an epilogue. Happy New Year to all and thank you for all the reviews and the encouragement. They mean the world to me. Hope you enjoy and if you do, please say so in a review.**

**Living Daylights**

Chapter 13: Acquisition

Kathryn Janeway's snapped open and her hand reached for the empty space beside her bed. "Oh, Seven," she murmured, missing her spouse whom she hadn't seen in weeks. Janeway pushed off the bed coverlets and swung her legs to the carpet of her new quarters. She wiggled her toes against the plushy softness under her feet. Unlike the personal quarters on Voyager, this carpet wasn't so worn you could see decking below.

Upon entering Federation space, the U.S.S. Voyager had been ordered to Outpost 23, near the Romulan Border, for debriefing nearly two months ago. In that time, she and Seven had been separated for individual meetings with Starfleet brass. She was beginning to lose her patience.

She found herself missing the hum of the ship now. The steely silence of the Space Station seemed almost disconcerting now, she thought as she leaned her shoulder against the bulkhead to peer out of the overlarge picture window that gave her a view of the U.S.S. Voyager, registry NCC-74656. Beside the other vessels, mostly merchant ships and transport frigates, the proud ship had limped home on its own power—despite offers—or practically official orders—to surrender it for tractoring.

The Federation's new starships were smaller with sleek silvery contours. By contrast, Voyager's hull was a hodge podge of materials and colors, with black streaks marking the survival of fierce battles. It was also pocketed from countless hailstorms. Its once shiny gleam was marred by black streaks across its bow. Voyager's gray Borg component add-ons marred the smooth aerodynamic curves of the warp nacelles. Some outer hull panels were discolored, having been replaced long ago from traded parts.

Compared to Starfleet's newest starship models, Voyager was an ugly hybrid of Starfleet, Borg and countless other worlds. _But by God, she got us home, dammit! _she thought, as she touched the transparent steel of the window.

Suddenly, she heard the main door of her quarters swish open and as she turned, Seven of Nine stood in the doorway of their bedroom. Her blonde hair had grown out, reaching her jawline and falling back in stylish layers.

The ambient light from the window caught the gleam of a single gold pip on the Operations Blue undershirt. Janeway smiled faintly, her contentment at Starfleet's acceptance of her wife was overshadowed by the long-denied lust. She let her eyes graze over Seven's shapely body, covered in the new style uniform—a Starfleet tunic with the quilted gray yoke and black body to the hem. Its zipper was closed to the throat.

Seven looked down at her new uniform. "Am I properly uniformed, Admiral?" she asked.

"You are, Commodore." The corner of Kathryn's mouth kinked up in a half-smile and her eyes hooded slightly. "But not for long."

Seven lifted a brow. "I believe you plan to strip me of my rank."

Janeway stepped forward, her palms brushing from Seven's shoulders downward. But she stopped just shy of the generous breasts that lay ensconced underneath two layers of fabric. "Your rank and your jacket…." And Kathryn began to slowly unzip the tunic, carefully watching Seven's lovely face.

Seven seemed unmoved by the deep treble of Kathryn's voice. Instead of turning to creamed butter under the onslaught of Kathryn's boundless charisma, Seven caught her hands behind her back and assumed the at-ease Starfleet stance. "I was not aware of such a rank as Commodore," she said plainly.

Janeway knew Seven's disinterest for what it was—a challenge. She enjoyed this game and so she played along. "There hasn't been a Starfleet commodore in a hundred years," she said, holding Seven's gaze while she slowly unzipped the tunic.

Janeway leaned forward, carefully threading her hands inside the open jacket. Seven did not match her movements, but continued with a regulation stance in front of her superior officer.

So as punishment, Kathryn avoided Seven's lips, even as she hovered close to undress her.

The Borg attempted to pull back twist herself in order to capture Janeway's lips, but Janeway averted her face, her lips millimeters from the Seven's ear. "Not so fast, Commodore."

"But I wish to kiss you," Seven whispered with a little dismay.

Janeway slipped her hands inside the arms of Seven's tunic and pushed it down, where it puddled at her feet. She pulled back to admire the sleek lines of Seven of Nine. "Your uniform has me so excited…" Janeway said in a breathy whisper.

"If I had been aware of your reaction, I would have borrowed one years ago," Seven said, trying to slip her fingers under the lacey shoulder straps of Kathryn's sheer, light blue nightgown.

Kathryn playfully smacked the Borg's hands. "You will desist, Commodore and that's an order."

Seven let her hands fall to her side, charming Kathryn with her instant attentiveness. Kathryn slipped her hands under the Borg's undershirt, lightly running her fingertips against the supple skin she found there. Seven hissed as she inhaled deeply.

"Like that?" Kathryn murmured, her lips hovering dangerously close to Seven's.

Seven pitched forward, her lips desperately seeking Kathryn's. But again the Admiral eluded her. "Is that a yes?"

"Indeed," Seven replied.

Kathryn only smiled as she found the zipper of Seven's pants. Before Seven could anticipate the next move, Kathryn's hand was inside her panties, lightly grazing fingertips along the downy softness she found there. The uniform pants joined the tunic at her feet.

Seven bucked her hips, searching for more contact.

"My, my, my," Kathryn teased. "I see we are still hungry?"

"Our last lovemaking was on stardate 61231.82, with a failed attempt on stardate—"

"I remember, Commodore," she purred.

"Aye, Admiral."

"I see you've adapted, Commodore Seven of Nine." Seven maintained Starfleet discipline, down to the far-away stare. "Tha's good," Kathryn said, brushing her lips along the jawline. A single finger continued to tease the seam of Seven's sex, catching the lush flow of fluids.

After Seven remained quiet and still, despite Kathryn's relentless and unmerciful teasing between her legs, the Admiral rewarded her with a soft kiss on the lips. But she pulled away when Seven opened her mouth. Seven whimpered helplessly. Kathryn cupped her cheek with the other hand, her middle finger rubbing the Borg starburst near her ear, while her thumb rubbed the full lips. Her other hand, the one in Seven's panties, grazed the dewy seam and finally caressed the prominent bud. Seven bucked and fell against Kathryn, but she quickly rectified herself, earning purring approval.

"Then perhaps we should make this session last, hmm?"

Seven's eyes widened, even as Kathryn extricated her hand from between Seven's legs. With Borg-enhanced speed, Seven grabbed Kathryn's wrists and hoisted the older woman up. "Unacceptable," the Borg said over the loud and invective-riddled protests of her wife.

Kathryn's belly landed with a loud "oof" on Seven's shoulder. Seven carried her incensed prey to the unmade bed.

"Seven!" Kathryn protested, when she slammed against the bed.

Seven was heedless, as she crawled over Kathryn's body.

"Insubordination is a serious crime," Kathryn finally said, mustering all the dignity of an admiral in a compromised position.

Seven smirked as she reached down with her Borg hand and shredded Kathryn's underwear. "It is more efficient."

When Kathryn opened her mouth to protest, Seven's descended on hers like a positive ion to a negative charge. Kathryn's own desire was unfurled and she began to grind against Seven's thigh and her murmurs filled the room.

Seven lavished Kathryn's neck with kisses, alternating with fierce suction.

Kathryn's hands slipped into Seven's hair. "Oh, darling," she murmured around incoherent cries. "I've missed you so much."

Seven's response was to clamp her lips around a gown-covered nipple. Kathryn opened her legs wider, wrapping Seven's body to bring her closer. "Seven," Kathryn pleaded.

Seven slipped two fingers into Kathryn's moist center, earning a long, purring "ohhh," from her partner. Her lips found Kathryn's again and her tongue kept time to the plunging rhythm of her fingers below.

"Oh, God!" Kathryn shouted into Seven's mouth.

"The children," Seven warned.

Both of Kathryn's hands gripped a wad of Seven's blue undershirt. The violent bucking caused the bed to creak unmercifully.

"Just…a…little…." Kathryn gasped.

When Seven's thumb touched Kathryn's core, the woman cried out her name and came in a cascade of pleasure, blocking out all other stimulus. When Kathryn came to, she cried out at the cadence of Seven's continued thrusts.

"Darling…" she said in a hoarse voice. "I want you again. I do. But I need a little recoop time."

Seven gently withdrew her hand. "Very well," she said in a hint of disappointment.

Seven fell back, the slick hand falling beside her pillow. The scent of Kathryn flared her nose.

Kathryn's panting slowly subsided and her breath returned to normal, even as she murmured to her partner how much she had needed her. When she was calmer, Kathryn rolled over, her eyes caressing the partial nudity of the Borg beside her.

Her hand slipped under the hem of her undershirt and began to stroke her belly. "I love your new uniform, by the way," she said playfully. "Did I mention that?"

"I believe I understood that," she said, gazing into the sparkling blue eyes that were consuming her.

"But I'd like you better out of it," she said. Kathryn grabbed the hem of the shirt and clucked her teeth. Seven lifted slightly and off came the shirt, falling across the room on a wall sconce.

Kathryn gently kissed Seven's mouth, even as her hand attempted to unsnap her wife's upper shapewear. The kiss prolonged until a distracted Kathryn pulled back, frowning. "Is there a lock on that thing?" she asked. She urged Seven to roll over to one side to examine the fastener behind her.

"I believe," Seven said, with every ounce of Borg arrogance, "that you still require more practice."

Kathryn yelped triumphantly when she'd freed Seven's breasts from their keep. She sat back, running the backs of her fingers along the full underside. Her excited eyes following the trail of goosebumps.

"Oh, I agree," she said. Then she sucked one tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue over it again and again.

It was Seven's turn to babble disjointed thoughts. Janeway's murmurs of approval rumbled against her sensitive breasts, making the connection that much more arousing. "Kathryn," Seven gulped. "I have needed you."

Janeway pulled back. Her expression had softened, illuminated from the side by the ambient station lights beyond the window. "Oh, Seven, and you I," she whispered. She kissed her tenderly, before flicking her tongue against the full lips.

Seven opened her mouth to the tasty assault. She could not take Kathryn in deep enough, nor could she embrace her closer. Kathryn's hands flew at light speed to every sensitive spot, tweaking a nipple, rubbing the down between her legs, scratching the cheeks of her ass—everything but what Seven wanted most.

"Kathryn," Seven chided into her partner's mouth.

"All right," she said drawing back from the all-consuming kiss with a pant.

Kathryn found a breast and flicked it with her tongue to attention, before heading southward. She grazed her tongue through the dark blonde hairs, even has she gently pushed Seven's thighs wider. "Oh," she whispered, before inhaling the scent deeply. _There was a definite difference to her_, the scientist in Kathryn noted. In their last encounter with Q, two months ago, the omnipotent being had restored Seven's womanhood. Kathryn had not realized how natural, body-produced hormones could make a difference. But she'd never seen, nor felt, Seven this…_juicy_.

"Please study me later, Kathryn," Seven urged. "I require immediate release."

Kathryn chuckled as she spread Seven's lips, while trying to keep the former Borg drone from shooting off the bed from the sheer pleasure of the intimate touch. "Hold still," Kathryn teased, earning an uncharacteristic growl from her partner.

She swirled her tongue into Seven's opening. Silky smooth cream filled Kathryn's mouth. "Divine," she whispered before licking upward. She found the demanding swollen gland. It visibly throbbed its need. "Hello, beautiful," she whispered before taking it into her mouth.

Seven let out a long, low moan. Her hands found Kathryn's head, urging her to continue. The sounds of slurps and mewling filled the room. It was instantly replaced by a piercing cry of long-delayed satisfaction.

Seven was still panting when Kathryn crawled up beside her. "Kathryn," she said with contentment, even as she arranged the coverlet around them.

Kathryn slipped a thigh over Seven's, as she snuggled closer. "Seven," was her dreamy response. And they slept well for the first time since returning to Federation space.

=/\=

Kathryn awoke later to find Seven staring at her. "What do you think you're doing?" she rasped.

Seven tugged her lips into a faint smile, while she trailed the back of a languid finger along Kathryn's creamy shoulder, drawing the sheet as it went.

Kathryn sucked in a quick breath when Seven grazed a nipple. It instantly went to attention, painful in its rigidity.

Seven leisurely bent down to kiss a shoulder, then along her throat before speaking. "I want to take you again," she said.

Kathryn's face softened and her lips trembled in laughter. "Well, darling, you don't think three times is enough in six hours?"

Seven pressed her entire body to Kathryn's, breasts to breasts. She slipped a leg between the slicked thighs of her spouse. "No," she whispered before kissing her. "It can never be enough, my Kat."

After they'd finished another round of lovemaking, the two sweaty bodies fell onto the bed, Kathryn falling onto the Borg, who lay face down. Kathryn lifted Seven's short hair and kissed the back of her neck before burrowing her breasts into the creamy back. She rested a thigh over perfect Borg buttocks.

The admiral sighed heavily against Seven's neck, ruffling the blonde locks.

"I'm so glad Starfleet Command finally released you."

"As am I," Seven murmured into her pillow. "The fear was exhausting."

Kathryn lifted to one arm and gently smacked Seven's left butt for her turn over, which she did after a moment. Kathryn reluctantly dragged her eyes from the swollen and bruised nipple tips to meet Seven's expectant gaze. "Was the fear yours or theirs?"

As Kathryn adjusted herself to Seven's body, Seven remained silent, merely watching. Kathryn lifted her eyes. She could only see the lovely lips and she saw them tremble.

She squeezed Seven's middle. "It's okay, darling. I'm right here and there is nothing that I will allow anyone to do to separate us."

_Except death_, Seven thought. Images of the trip that Q had taken her on to the future loomed there. A blind, white-haired Kathryn crying for the love she'd lost.

She did not wish to tell Kathryn of Q's journey, but she'd once promised her wife long ago—when they'd first acquired their daughter Eridani—that she would never lie to her again.

Kathryn took Seven's dimpled chin between a thumb and finger, pulling her gaze toward her. "Seven. You _do_ know that, right?"

Seven took hold of Kathryn's hand, kissed the knuckles and drew her close. When she'd placated the Admiral, Seven kissed the top of her red, but graying head. Then she proceeded to tell the Kathryn of the odd but frightening journey that Q had taken her on when her physical form was unconscious.

=/\=

By the time Seven had completed her tale, they both were wrapped in fluffy robes. Kathryn was seated in an oversized brown sofa chair, the overhead light casting sinister shadows down her face.

Seven paced relentlessly during her retelling, her voice alternating between the usual cool and detached Borg voice to the hot and indignant threats of a mother.

Kathryn stared out at the gleaming, battered ship. "What possible motive would Q have for showing you the future, Seven?"

"He said he wanted to show me the consequence of loving a mortal."

Kathryn whipped her head around. "But you're mortal."

"I am but as Borg I will age slower than you."

"Age!" Kathryn sneered, looking away. "Damn Q, anyway."

"Now that I am aware of the traps, I can circumvent them."

Kathryn pursed her lips and shook her head. "Dangerous. I've read many reports of captains who, seeking to divert a catastrophe with knowledge of the future, actually caused it."

"The causation loop," Seven replied. "I am aware of such. The Borg nearly destroyed Earth in pre-warp times because of it."

Kathryn stood up. "We can't worry about it, darling," she said, wrapping her hands around the collar of Seven's robe to draw her close. "We must live our lives on our own terms. Promise me, my love."

"I promise," Seven said, hastily adding: "In so far as I am able."

Kathryn turned her head slightly, giving her wife a dubious expression from the corner of her eye. "Seven?"

"It is my best 'officer's agreement,' Kathryn."

"All right," she said, after a brief peck of Seven's lips. "Let's get dressed and find the girls. I feel like celebrating."

=/\=

Out in the main living room of the quarters, it was immaculate. The comm system blinked red, indicating an incoming message. Kathryn shared a look with Seven before engaging the message. A three dimension image of their daughter, Eridani, integrated right before their eyes.

Seven noted that the quality of the video was substantially less than a holoprojection, that seemed almost life-like, but a great deal more tri-planer than the vidmessages from 14 years ago.

"_Hey, Cap," the image of Eridani said. "I got up and made breakfast for Shannon and I."_

_In the background, the distinct voice of Shannon Janeway could be heard announcing: "It was merely adequate," the voice sneered from somewhere off-camera. _

_Eridani's expression did not change and she interjected coolly: "Meanwhile, she licked the plate clean."_

_Shannon growled, shoving her sister off camera to stand front and center. Her blonde hair fell to her shoulders. Her blue eyes seemed to sparkle in the holovid. "Dani lies like a crappy targ rug! If I hadn't inherited Mom's Borg constitution, then I'd prolly be lying in the hotel's infirmary puking my guts out…."_

_A blanket sailed through the air above her to land on the hapless sibling. She screeched when it covered her completely and she was pulled off camera. Dani could be seen stretching one lanky arm toward her sister. It flexed to the rhythm of the off-camera threats. _

_Dani snorted at Shannon to one side and then turned a polished smile toward the camera again. "Sorry about that! Insubordination is very ugly—"_

"_You're going to pay for that!" Shannon reply was a muffled shout through the blanket. _

"_Anyway, we know you're exhausted so I cleaned up—"_

"_We cleaned up!"_

"_We cleaned up—that's what I said. Yay us! We will be hanging out around the pool with our friends if you need us."_

The image went blank and Janeway allowed a crooked smile to blossom, as she shared a look of profound contentment with her spouse. "Those girls," she whispered.

Seven roughly pulled an unresisting Kathryn against her. "We have succeeded in raising two strong and intelligent individuals," she said, before pecking Kathryn's lips. "We should be commended."

Kathryn cupped Seven's cheek, letting a finger caress the Borg starburst there. "Our commendation will come with grandchildren," she said.

Seven's eyes slightly widened at the thought. "Subunits once removed," she whispered with the same kind of awe Kathryn remembered when they'd discussed the Omega Particle. Then quickly Seven's lovely face contorted. "But it is premature! Shannon Astrid is premature! Her menstruation may have begun but her mind is too infantile! Furthermore, she is too immature to make a serious decision about her life's partner!"

Kathryn glided her hands down along Seven's biceps, trying to make calming noises. But Seven's Borg-enhanced mind had already extrapolated the necessary algorithms of known quantity of her daughter, seeing a vast array of possibilities—most being unacceptable.

"Seven of Nine," Kathryn whispered against her ear. "Breathe, darling. Just…breathe."

Seven closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Kathryn could feel the hot breath against her neck, tickling her and arousing her. She pushed it away, focusing instead of Seven's obvious parental distress.

She pulled back. "What I meant to say is when the girls have finished their studies and are well involved in their careers and found their significant others—then we'll be repaid for our hard labor with grandchildren."

Seven's stiff body relaxed and her expression became neutral again. "The deductive patterns of mathematical possibilities did not provide their usual sense of beauty," she explained. "They were chaotic."

"As girls usual are, especially for their mothers. Q's predictions should not be your focus. It will be hard, but we must hold the line on causing the very nightmare we desperately want to avoid." Kathryn said.

"This is most unsettling," Seven replied, allowing herself to be placated by the Admiral. She stared off into space for a nanosecond and then focused on Kathryn's slate gray eyes. "Why can subunits not be more rational?"

A deep rumble of laughter effervesced in Janeway's chest.

"You are enjoying my befuddlement," Seven accused.

"Oh, darling, I'm very sorry and no, it's not the confusion that I enjoy. But your realization that life isn't a neat calculation. It's in seeing you flail just a wee bit when your neatly defined and exacting calculations return an unexpected solution."

Seven's brow wrinkled slightly. "I am Borg. I can perform calculations that rival the main computer."

Kathryn pecked Seven's nose playfully. "That's entirely m'point, darling. Sometimes the equation of a child is incomplete—an irrational number or worse!"

"What could be worse?" Seven said, the tension drawing her face tightly.

Kathryn enunciated every syllable very carefully, as she watched Seven take in the reply. "An undefined solution."

"Undefined? As in 'division by zero'?"

"Yes, exactly!"

"But that is an impossibility."

"That's what an adolescent girl growing up should be called until she's fully matured…a living, breathing 'division by zero.'"

Seven's eyes glossed over as she considered the statement. Then she tipped her head while she stared into the gray eyes whose every nuance and variation she knew. "It is apropos." Then she eyed Kathryn suspiciously.

"Indeed," she said. Seven pondered the issue for another nanosecond before pressing her lips to Kathryn's.

After a long minute of making out, Kathryn finally she smacked Seven on the ass cheek. "We better eat breakfast…"

"Or a late lunch, in this case," Seven added with a nibble to her wife's neck.

"Hmm, yes, ah, what was I saying?"

Seven pulled back a millimeter, her breath hot on the spot she'd kissed. "That you require sustenance."

"Yes," she said in a husky voice. "That's it and we should probably check on the girls."

=/\=

Kathryn Janeway, wearing a white button up, long sleeved top and Starfleet blue slacks stepped off the elevator, holding the hand of Seven of Nine, who was wearing a gray biosuit.

They peered about the expansive station hotel, a lake of brown Risian marble stretching out in all directions. Tall marble pillars stood as sentinels among the milling of other guests.

"I do not see any other crewmembers," Seven replied, after having swept the large lobby and the adjoining dining area quickly with her Borg eyepiece.

"No, I believe you were the last crewmember to be released for duties."

A short Ferengi with a shrew face pushed through the doors of the transparent steel that surrounded the leisure pool area. He glanced furtive at the pair before scurrying toward the hotel exit. The door behind him shut slowly, allowing the shrieks of swimmers and the splashes of water to echo through the antechamber.

Seven nodded toward the double doors. "I hear the girls in that direction," she said.

"Darling, I'm going to go settle the bill. Would you mind gathering them? I think our Starfleet liaison will be here soon."

Seven leaned down and pecked her lips. "I do not mind."

Kathryn watched as Seven sashayed toward the pool, in typical Borg fashion. She was on a mission and she took neither the time to observe a beautiful red-speckled black Betazed orchid nor the teal paratiel bird perched nearby calling for her attention. Neither did Seven notice several human males congregated by the bar who leered in her direction.

Janeway shook her head, chiding herself for believing that fourteen years away was enough time for some species to evolve. "It isn't," she said, turning on her heels and making her way to the hotel's lavish front desk.

"I'd like to check out please," she said to the pleasant Angosian woman. The sole feature distinguishing her from a Terran was small, twin ridges of skin between her sculpted eyebrows.

"Good afternoon, Admiral Janeway, I trust your stay with us was pleasant." The woman actually stopped tapping to look up for an answer.

Surprised, Kathryn looked back from the pool. "How did you know my name?"

The woman smiled. "The return of the lost and legendary U.S.S. Voyager from the far reaches of the Delta Quadrant is the story of the decade. Your face is on every holovid from here to Deep Space 9."

"Terrific," she murmured. Then Kathryn realized how rude she sounded. "I'm sorry…ah…"

"Anatoth."

"I'm sorry, Anatoth. I just didn't realize that my notoriety would have gotten away from me."

Anatoth smiled gently, returning to tap keys mid air. "The total is four thousand credits."

Janeway was about to hand over her Starfleet re-issued ID chip, when she withdrew it. "That much? I was expecting the bill to be half that."

Anatoth's hands flew in the air, right there in the three-dimensional space between the two women. The projection of blue, black, red and white images and text hung inside a small ten inch window of air between them. "Ah, here it is. On these dates…" Anatoth touched a projected key and the information reversed itself for Kathryn to read. "Here, here, here, here and here…room service was ordered for a total of nearly eight hundred credits. In addition, today, room service was ordered poolside. That one appears to account for the most of the rest."

"That being?"

"Twenty-two hundred credits."

It wasn't the money. With back pay and interest, Janeway's credits had multiplied quickly in fourteen years. It was the breach of faith. "Who signed for those and what exactly was ordered."

"Dani Janeway and today, for instance, she ordered Kilm steak, Alfarian hair pasta with Denobulan sausage, Spiny lobe-fish, Gramilian sand pea—"

"I don't mean to interrupt, Anatoth, but just how many dishes were ordered?"

"Oh, at least twenty. It was a great party. Your daughters even invited the staff on break."

Janeway pulled her white blouse down by the hem and turned offered a resigned smile. "Yes, it sounds like quite a—"

Janeway listened to the woman regale her about the nice festivities in honor of the girls' last day. She leaned on the counter, her head propped by a finger and thumb as Anatoth spoke of her daughters on a first-name basis. In all fairness, they'd been stuck in the Four Seasons of Aldebaran III for the last two months while Starfleet Command debriefed the Voyager crew incognito.

With little to do but explore and entertain themselves, the girls had somehow managed to stay out of trouble, to Janeway's infinite relief. She was just about to wrap this expensive little conversation up when Anatoth said something that got her attention.

"The real fun didn't start until the Flaming Risian Mai Tais were finished."

"Excuse me?" Janeway squeaked.

"Although the Cardassian Sunrise was quite the hit."

Janeway closed her eyes, raising a halting hand. "I think I've had enough," she murmured.

"Oh, you did make it then!"

She crinkled her brow. "Make it?"

"The farewell for the girls."

She knew her smile was sarcastic, but it couldn't be helped. "No, but I'm sure I'll get to—"

The front desk communication system crackled. "Anatoth! Send security. There's an altercation in the leisure area."

Anatoth tapped out a call to security while she handed Janeway her receipt. "Have a good day, Admiral!" she called to Kathryn's retreating back.

=/\=

Only moments ago, Seven of Nine stepped into the enclosed leisure area. Her Borg cortical processor assessed the swimming pool area and catalogued incongruent images nearly instantaneously.

She noted the long, cloth covered tables covered in all manner of food. There were anti-grav spheres, all in shimmering primary colors, bouncing against the geodesic transparent ceiling and skimming the pool below. She noticed that every lounge chair and table was occupied.

As she passed a table, a large humanoid male with shorn head stood up and took her hand. "Hey, baby," he said with a slur. "I'm so glad you came, but you're going to need to change to go swimming here."

She furrowed her brow after yanking her hand away. "I do not intend to swim in these clothes."

He winked at her and leaned close. She could smell Altairian brandy on his breath. "I can get you out of those clothes pretty damn quick then."

"Then I would be naked," she replied in cool Borg tones.

He brushed his lips with a knuckle. "I think I'm going out on a limb here, but I don't think anyone will mind."

She arched a brow and straightened. "You are attempting to flirt with me."

He took her hand again and tried to twine their fingers. "I'm really trying to, yes. What do you say?"

"Say to what?"

"To my offer." He wagged his bushy eyebrows for good measure.

"Which offer? To launder my clothes?"

He smiled, one with no small amount of stupor. "No, baby," he said, trying to capture her hand.

Seven stared at the man, watching him teeter from side to side and listening to him slur his words.

The man's eyes went wide when he took her Borg hand, its cold skin a shock to his system. He stumbled back, falling across another poolside guest, an ill-tempered Nausicaan who did not take kindly to the intrusion. In one swift motion, the Nausicaan heaved the man over his head and tipped him into the pool, all the while snorting through tusked mouth.

Seven heard the man's three friends hoot and howl in mocking laughter as she departed. She shook her head and made a mental not to discuss this confrontation with Kathryn.

She swept the large pool area and then her keen Borg eyesight recognized her oldest child.

Dressed in a green, two-piece bathing suit, Dani was nearly unrecognizable to Seven. She seemed taller in the eight weeks since she'd been secreted to a cloaked Starfleet vessel for high level briefings. But perhaps it had less to do with actual growth and more to do with her immodest bathing suit and more to do with the company she was keeping.

Standing waist-high in water, Dani was flush against another scantily clad girl in a corner of the pool. Dani's hand was caressing the top of her rump and their bodies were fused from breasts to thighs. The girl was shorter than Dani by several centimeters, with long dark hair that poured down her slender shoulders in giant waves. Her wrist was festooned in bracelets with thousands of beads, but more significantly, a small circular indentation in the middle of her forehead marked her as a girl from Risa, Seven knew from her research of the Federation worlds.

Seven knew she shouldn't eavesdrop on another person's conversation. However, this other person was her very own subunit, whose "friend" appeared to be from a hedonistic culture; and, most importantly, Seven recalled that Samantha Wildman had often indicated that the same rules of civility could not possibly apply to one's own offspring.

So Seven craned her neck and engaged her Borg extra-sensory hearing, even though she was still the full length of the pool across from the overtly amorous pair.

"I'm going to miss you," Seven heard Dani whisper.

The girl nipped Dani's lower lip with her own. "I'm going to miss you, too," she cooed. "You're a very fast learning."

_Abort!_ Seven commanded herself. The Fourth Tenet of Parenting seemed more apropos to this situation, which was, according to Ensign Wildman: ignorance was bliss.

Seven blinked several times, trying to disengage to normal hearing. In that attempt to reverse course and give her elder daughter some privacy (and avoid an understanding of what she had learned quickly), Seven heard a familiar shriek at the other end of the pool.

Her youngest child was being held down on a chaise lounger by three boys. Then one of them picked her up, carried her to the swimming pool edge. The entire time, Shannon was begging to be released, though Seven thought she heard a bit of laughter, the pleading nearly overwhelmed her sensory processors. Her eyes widened when Shannon was thrown unceremoniously by one of the boys into the deep end of the swimming pool. As the tall boy arched his body to dive in, Seven zeroed in on a disturbing image. The boy's right forearm was tattooed with a stylized, yellow sun with a black center square and small flaring rays shooting from the perimeter.

He was the man from Shannon's bleak future that Q had revealed, the one who had fathered countless children with her daughter and whose ability to provide for their needs was less than exemplary.

Seven of Nine had committed that identifying mark on his arm to memory. Though he had yet to adopt the tattoo to the right side of his face, it was the same person. A boy in this present timeline.

A rage surged in Seven so rapidly that she crushed the metal framing of an empty lounge chair on her determined march to save her daughter.

The boy had emerged from the water near the ledge, water sluicing down his face.

"You are a…big ape!" Shannon shrieked with a snort. She was wiping water from her face and coughing a bit.

The boy laughed and splashed her with water until two hands curled under his arms and hoisted him abruptly into the air. His brown eyes were wide in alarm and his uneven, adolescent voice cracked a yelp. His legs kicked in mid air until he was unfurled safely but awkwardly onto the platform, barely able to keep his feet under him.

He turned a ghostly expression on Seven of Nine, who, in turn, bore incendiary Borg eyes into him. "What have you done to her?"

The lad blinked surprise and sputtered a few unintelligible words.

Seven lunged forward ominously, forcing the boy to take a step back. "She requested you leave her alone and yet, you continued to molest her."

"Molest?" He squeaked as he shook his head violently. "N-no, I didn't!" His uneven wail was punctuated with hiccups.

Shannon marched over to stand by the boy, her arms crossed over her chest. "Mother!"

"Mother?" the boy squeaked. "What the hell?"

"Shannon Astrid, are you damaged?" Seven asked, even as she scanned her daughter's physique without waiting for a reply.

"What I am is embarrassed!"

Seven blinked, the nonsequiter answer stunned her momentarily as the former Drone tried to assimilate information that had not seemed relevant before. "His actions have embarrassed you," Seven deduced.

Shannon dropped her arms and rolled her eyes. "No, mom. Your actions have embarrassed me!"

The incoming data was incongruent with Seven's own theories. It took her a nanosecond to assimilate it.

The boy took the moment to explain to Shannon. "She thinks I molested you!"

Just then, a tall burly human male stepped up with dark hair and a bright, orange shirt with large black elephant leaves printed in every direction. "Who are you and what are you doing to my son?"

"Dad!" the boy shrieked. "She's hurting my arm."

Shannon glanced down at her mother's iron grip and saw her friend's white flesh underneath. "Mother! That's too tight," she said in a pleading voice.

Seven released him. "I did not want him to escape."

"Why would he 'escape'?" the large man asked. "He's done nothing wrong and you haven't answered my question." By this time, the man had scrutinized Seven's chain-maile-covered hand, her ocular implant and the starburst beside her ear. "Are you…_Borg_?" he spat the last word in such contempt that Shannon fell back a half step.

"I am Borg," Seven replied, with a lift of her chin.

He looked around. "Get security! We've got Borg here!"

"Borg!" The alarming word sounded through the once docile crowd. In a micro-nanosecond, women began to shriek as they frantically searched for their offspring. Children began to cry, while their mothers shoved them toward the nearest exit. One child lost a shoe, but his mother tugged him relentlessly onward heedless of the loss.

As the rush of people tried to exit, hotel security tried to enter, leaving the doors jammed in a hopeless morass of panic.

Just then, the boy's mother stepped beside her husband. A human female, she was blonde and much shorter than her partner. "I lost my brothers at Wolf 359," she said in a shaking voice. "I pray to God they were killed and not…" The woman gave a sneering sweep of Seven, head to toe. "Assimilated."

Seven seemed unperturbed by the tone, but the exchange was clearly baffling to her. "I am no longer with the Collective," she said, as if that explanation should suffice.

"I don't give a targ's ass if you are a rogue or a _reformed_ drone," the boy's father growled. "You threatened my child and I am going to see that you are punished."

"You should pay for your crimes," the boy's mother hissed.

Seven was beginning to believe that the boy's mother was talking about more than today's incident.

In stepping away from her friend's parents, Shannon bumped into her mother's side. "Ty," she whispered in a shaking voice. "This is way out of control. Your parents are scaring me."

The boy gave a frustrated face and looked helplessly at his father, who patted the boy's shoulder. "I'll take it from here, son."

Just then two security officers ran up, looking around at the scene, followed closely by Dani Janeway and her friend. One of the officers, a short and rotund fellow in a gray jumper, whipped out a hand-padd, fastened to the back of his wrist. "What's the problem here?"

Everyone but Seven of Nine began to speak, filling the air with conflicting accounts, racial slurs and dark threats. Finally the officer held up a hand and pointed a finger at the tall, garishly dressed man. "You first, sir."

"I am Lt. Commander Trevers Parmiller of Starfleet Academy." With an official voice, the man related the scene he witnessed. "This woman—who admitted she was Borg—"

Some of the witnesses around murmured their assent, some adding their own affirmations. "Damn right she did and we all heard her!" one man said.

Seven tipped her head at the bystander wondering why he believed that she would deny the obvious. It was all perplexing and she merely catalogued the conversations for later review.

"So this Borg _thing_ threatened my son!"

"Why?" the officer asked.

"No reason," Parmiller said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Do Borg need a reason?" Mrs. Parmiller asked.

The comment made Seven stir. "That is not an entirely accurate portrayal," Seven replied evenly, though she was barely audible from the cacophony of hoots and slurs being yelled out all around her.

The officer turned to look Seven over, a disgusted curl of his upper lip barely suppressed. "So you admit you're a Borg."

"Though it is irrelevant to the situation, I am Borg."

The man lifted his eyes from his left hand, turning it around to tap furiously on a black wrist-padd. "All right," he said. "Thank you, Commander Parmiller. We'll take it from here." He keyed his padd and spoke into the device. "Bron, here. Alert the authorities that we're taking a Borg into custody."

"Wait!" Shannon and Dani cried together.

Shannon seemed relieved to finally notice her sister step around the other security officers. "You haven't heard her side yet," Dani explained.

"Who are you?" the first officer asked.

"I'm Dani Janeway. That's my sister, Shannon, and this is our mother."

"Mother?" the security officer and the boy's parents asked incredulously.

"My designation is Seven of Nine—"

"You see? I told you she was Borg," Parmiller said.

Seven tipped her head in dismay. "But I have not disputed that fact."

"What are you doing in Federation space, Borg?" the officer asked.

"I live here now," she said.

"Who in the hell authorized that?!" the officer asked.

Seven looked incredulous. "I was not aware that I needed any authorization."

He curled his arm around her bicep. "Let's go. I think the authorities should take care of this. Hold out your wrists."

Just as the deputy was about to place tritanium handcuffs on her wrists, Admiral Kathryn Janeway stepped between him and Seven.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said in her most dangerous tone. Though the deputy—a thin Bolian with blue skin—was taller by more than a foot and probably outweighed Kathryn by a good fifty kilograms, recoiled from the Admiral by a full step.

"Whoa! Back off, ma'am," he said. "We're making a lawful arrest of a Borg. This doesn't concern you."

"Oh? It doesn't?" she asked with all the sarcasm she could muster.

The tone and the fierce look was enough to make the Bolian deputy shudder involuntarily. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I am Admiral Kathryn Janeway and why are you attempting to make an _unlawful _arrest of this woman?"

An eerie echo of some of her words spread through the crowd: "Admiral?" and "unlawful" zipped around the poolside in shocked shouts or hushed whispers. The crowd, mostly curious men, left a large perimeter around the Janeways and the Parmillers, but still they loomed nearby, alternating between hushed whispers and outright gasps at the revelation of a Borg among them.

"Janeway?" Parmiller asked.

She looked at the man, puzzled for a moment. He pushed out his hand. "Trevers Parmiller. Lt. Commander Parmiller. We served together on the _Billings_."

She clasped his hand, squinting her eyes at his face for a long moment. Realization dawned when her face melted into the professional mask. "Commander Parmiller. It's been quite a while."

"Nearly thirty years."

Janeway turned to the Chief Official. "And who, sir, are you?"

The hotel's chief of security, Bron Omin, introduced himself and related the story from Parmiller's perspective.

Janeway frowned at the chief and then at Parmiller. "There are just three problems with this account. Seven is a citizen of the Federation."

"What?" asked the short blonde woman beside Parmiller. "She's a-a-a Borg. I've never heard of one being _given_ asylum."

"And you are?" both Janeway and Chief Omin asked.

"This is my wife, Commander Rascilla Sebosi of Starfleet Command."

Janeway was courteous but curt. "This woman wasn't _given_ anything by _anyone_. She is Seven of Nine, the former Annika Hansen, born on Tendara Colony. She's a citizen by _birth_, like each of us."

The couple looked at each other, while the woman crossed her arms. "Secondly, Seven is my _wife_."

She watched the Security Chief Omin, Parmiller and his wife carefully, each of their faces contorting to shock.

"And what's more, she is a Starfleet Officer." Janeway heard her eldest daughter, still opposed to Starfleet, gasp. She regretted informing her this way, but there hadn't been time earlier. She glimpsed Seven's hand slip into Dani's and relaxed, focusing on this crisis first.

Parmiller tugged at the collar of his loud floral print shirt. "Why didn't she just tell us?"

"I believe I tried," Seven said. "On at least two separate occasions but I was—"

"You absolutely did not try hard enough!" Parmiller growled curtly.

"—Interrupted during each attempt."

Even before Seven had finished her rational and understated explanation, Commander Parmiller raised his arm to begin tapping out information into his wrist-padd. "What's your rank and service number? I am going to make a log of this incident for Starfleet command."

"Seven of Nine…"

Janeway put a hand on Seven's bicep to stop her, as she stepped forward. "Mr. Parmiller, don't you think this situation has gotten away from us just a little?"

He looked up, blinking as if she were daft. "Seven of Nine," he said, as he tapped her name in. "Rank?"

"Commodore."

He looked up. "Commodore?"

"Indeed, Commander," Seven replied. "I would accept nothing less to serve at Starfleet Command."

The man paled slightly, as he tapped the back of the padd on his palm.

The Security Officer began to tap more information into his own padd. "Do you have official documents that corroborate your story, Admiral?"

Janeway's eyebrows arched vexingly. She handed the man her own identification card, with Seven following suit. The Chief scrutinized them both carefully, even lifting them to the light.

"Is there a problem?" Janeway asked.

"These can be forged," Chief Omin snapped. "I'll also need thumbscans and retinal scans."

"A DNA scan would be more reliable," Seven informed him with typical Borg arrogance.

He looked up at her, an eye twitching spastically. "You have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, do you?"

"I'm a scientist, Mr. Omin. I'm concerned with accuracy to the most exacting degree possible."

Chief Omin palmed the two ID cards. "All of you will have to come with me now until I can verify this."

"Is that really necessary?" Commander Parmiller said. "It's not like _we_ assaulted anyone."

"Yes, it's necessary, Commander," he said, from over his shoulder. "Follow me." He pointedly looked at the Borg. "Or matters can get a whole lot worse."

Seven arched a brow, but before she could respond to the biased chief, Admiral Janeway caught her arm. "Seven," she said, letting the Chief advance a full three steps before she followed suit. "Girls—"

"Can we wait here, Cap?" Dani asked, still holding the hand of the Risian girl.

Janeway furtively took in her daughter's companion, but said, in her most commanding voice: "Negative. I need all of you there for your mother's and sister's support."

Shannon was slowly walking in front of them, sharing looks with the boy, who walked between his parents just behind the Chief. Still holding the girl's hand, Dani followed her parents to the exit doors, where Seven abruptly stopped.

She called to Shannon Astrid, and handed two white hotel towels to the girls. "Until you are able to change, please cover your nudity."

"Nudity?" Dani's friend said with a derisive snort.

Dani gave her a quieting look, while she wrapped the towel around her, tucking a corner into itself to hold it in place. "You don't have to go with us, if you don't want," she whispered, her fingertips playfully dancing along the girl's forearm.

Dani was slightly disappointed to see the relief on the girl's face. "I hope you don't mind, honey," she said with a purr. "I've got a hairdresser appointment in two hours."

Dani stared at her a long time. "It's fine," she whispered.

The girl stood on her tiptoes and pecked Dani's lips. "I'll see you later." Dani watched as the girl disappeared around the corner.

=/\=

Chief Omin was reviewing the data stream at his console projector in his office, having indicated for the two factions to stay in a small, empty reception area.

Janeway looked around, seeing the potted tropical trees in the corners, and several lush landscape paintings on the walls, set her a little at ease. This wasn't the room of interrogation or imminent arrest, she told herself. So she turned an incisive gaze on Parmiller for a moment.

He was pacing, running fingers through thinning dark hair. Rascilla Sebosi, his wife, appeared to be lecturing the boy, her head gestures were jerky and her hand motions were painting untold pictures. _She's coaching him_, Janeway thought. _This situation may be more than it appears._

Janeway stepped close to Seven. "Seven, what happened?"

Just as the Borg was going to relay the events in excruciating detail, Parmiller stepped toward them. "Admiral," he called.

Kathryn gestured an interruption of Seven and then stepped out from her group, toward the center.

This, in turn, drew Shannon and the boy together, where they whispered to each other quietly.

"I believe you may be right," Parmiller said. "This is all a simple misunderstanding that has been blown out of proportion."

"I can assure you that _is_ the case, Commander Parmiller," Janeway said in soothing tones. "Seven of Nine probably mistook your son's attention on our daughter to be aggressive rather than…flirtatious."

"That is incorrect, Kathryn?"

Janeway snapped her mouth shut and turned slowly to give her wife a withering gaze. "Oh, why is that?"

"I mistook nothing," Seven said, with a lift of the dimpled chin. She lifted her brow and met the boy's stare. "Young man, what is your age?"

The boy looked to his father, who nodded his assent. "I'm 16, almost 17."

"My daughter, Shannon Astrid, is seven years old—"

"Mother!" Shannon protested, a bloom of red spread across her face and neck.

The boy was confused, as he glanced at the shapely girl who stood beside him, radiating womanly beauty. Even the towel could not hide the promise of a curves underneath.

"Admiral Janeway!" his father protested. "What is _she_ talking about?"

Janeway dropped her head and scratched it, shaking as she went.

"Is she lying?" Rascilla Sebosi asked, carefully watching the Admiral.

Janeway's head snapped up even as Shannon entered the fray.

"Mom, we're just friends!" she said. "Really."

"Yeah, Mrs….uh, yeah," the boy said. "Friends."

Seven narrowed her eyes on the squeaky-voiced boy, watching his Adam's apple bob sporadically. "Have you kissed her?"

The boy's face reddened and he looked away. Shannon covered her face with a hand. "Don't do this to me, mother," she whispered.

Seven had already determined her daughter's emotional reaction as irrelevant and so proceeded with the interrogation. "You have kissed my seven-year-old daughter—"

"Seven years old? What the hell is this family?" Parmiller asked, running a hand through his receding hairline. He glared at Admiral Janeway. "Does Starfleet know about this?"

Janeway lifted to a chin to supply the answer she'd been ordered to give: "What Starfleet knows is—"

"Classified," he growled, finishing the boilerplate reply. "Yeah, just what I thought."

Ignoring everyone, even Kathryn's silent pleas to step into the hallway, Seven continued her inquisition. "Does your subunit not know that oral stimulation leads to copulation?"

"My subunit?" Parmiller said, perplexed.

"What is a subunit?" Sebosi asked her husband.

"Copulation?" the boy squeaked, his adolescent voice cracking and rising.

Parmiller stepped into Seven of Nine's personal space, where they stood toe-to-toe. "If 'subunit' is some offensive Borg term for children, then no. My son did not have sex with your daughter," he said. "And even if he did, it wouldn't be a crime."

Both children groaned. Shannon covered her face with the palm of her hand and groaned. The red of her complexion deepened.

Janeway tried once again to step between the feuding parents. "Seven, this is completely unnecessary," she said.

"On the contrary," Seven said. "It is completely necessary. This boy may have copulated with our daughter and that is unacceptable."

Parmiller's face contorted in frustration. And his fury seemed to mute him for a moment. When he did not respond, Seven continued her lesson, turning to the children.

"Are you aware of the development process of—?"

"Let's just step away from each other and take a deep breath and remember that there are children present," Janeway said, mustering every diplomatic tool at her disposal. She took Seven's wrist and tried to tug her to one side, but Seven brushed it aside and stepped in front of her spouse.

"—development process of infants?" Seven asked, carefully observing each of the subunits involved in the incident.

"What?" Shannon piped, finally all color draining from her face.

"I think mom wants to know if you understand sex," Dani said with a swallowed guffaw. To Cappie's angry look, Dani shrugged. "What? I'm just trying to help."

"Well, you're not," Cappie and Shannon said simultaneously.

Seven was undeterred by her partner's own fury. "Are you both aware that when a boy inserts his penis into a girl's vagina that—"

A chorus of protests (and a singular fit of laughter) broke out. "This is absurd, Admiral Janeway!" Parmiller shouted.

But Seven continued. "The male is introducing spermatozoa into the female's body. In turn, this—"

Parmiller gestured to Seven. "Can you call off your pet Borg, Janeway?"

"Seven, you're not helping either," Janeway said, before pivoting a step toward Parmiller. She leveled a finger at the man. "One more racial slur and I shall report you to Starfleet Command myself. Is that understood, Mister?"

He opened his mouth to address Janeway, but Seven spoke instead. "Why have you not addressed me directly, Commander?"

He straightened himself, his voice sharp as a bat'leth. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Why do you insist on vulgarities?"

"There is nothing vulgar about the procreation process. It can be quite beautiful at the proper time. However, Shannon Astrid is a child and your son is an adolescent—"

"Let's go, Ty," he finally said, a vein in his temple throbbing.

"Ty?" Seven said, perking up. "Your designation is Ty Parmiller."

"Tybelius," the boy corrected.

Seven made a mental note in her photographic memory.

Just then, Chief Omin stepped out of his office, smacking his thigh ruthlessly the twin ID cards. "Starfleet Command has dispatched its own liaison," the Chief said with a sneer. "To 'liaise,' I suppose. This may take longer than expected."

Parmiller had already dismissed the Chief's commentary, taking an ominous step closer to Seven of Nine. "So let me see if I even understand this situation…you _believe_ my son, who is 16, had sex with your daughter, who _looks_ 16?"

"What do you mean 'looks 16'?" Chief Omin asked, trying to regain control of the two parties.

"Looks can be deceiving," Seven said, proud of using an oft-repeated human adage.

"Do you have proof of her age?" Omin asked.

Seven handed the girl's ID cards. "Perhaps you should conduct a more thorough investigation before coming to erroneous conclusions about culpability."

Omin's eyes narrowed, as he snatched the cards. "So now you're an investigator," he mumbled.

"No," she replied. "I have never worked in Security; however, my mentor, Commander Tuvok, was the Chief Security Officer aboard the U.S.S. Voyager and his investigative skills were consummate. You would do well to emulate them, Mister Omin."

"Chief Omin," he growled at her. He read the cards, inhaled deeply and the belligerence in his face disappeared when he looked at the tall man. "The girl is indeed seven, Commander Parmiller, if this document has not been forged."

"What kind of sick experiment do you allow on your own children?" Parmiller hissed more at Seven than Kathryn. "That's something I'd expect from a Borg, not a mother!"

"Watch your mouth, Commander," Janeway warned.

"—She roughs up my son, without cause…" To Seven's dubious shake of the head, Parmiller rubbed his lips together and still offering Seven a withering stare, he said: "Tybelius?"

Ty dropped Shannon's hand and straightened himself. "Sir?"

"Did you and this girl have sex?"

He looked at Shannon, smiling and then let it slip from his face when he turned to his father. "No, sir."

Parmiller lifted a brow, indicating a match point.

"Shannon," Janeway said, in her most even tones. "Can you corroborate that?"

Shannon turned two shades of red, punching Ty's arm when he whispered something. "No, Cap," she said. "We really didn't." Then in a bit of uncharacteristic defiance added: "But it wasn't because we didn't want to."

Janeway offered challenging eyes to her spouse.

Seven clasped her hands behind her back and, unrelenting Borg arrogance, said to a coordinate in space just behind Commander Parmiller's right ear: "I have erred in my calculations."

Parmiller crossed his arms. "This must be a Borg apology," he sneered.

Seven lifted an eyebrow. "I have admitted my error," she said. "What more do you require?"

"An apology to us and our son."

Seven glanced at the boy who appeared to be looking down at his shoes, along with Shannon. Her eyes traveled down to see their pinkies stretched out, touching each other's thigh with the barest fingertip. She stared at them for a long moment, until Janeway called her name.

Seven jerked a head to her wife. "I apologize," Seven replied, once again looking in Commander Parmiller's general direction. "To everyone involved."

Parmiller nodded, allowing himself to be placated. His wife seemed less charitable.

"I think there should be consequences," she replied. "This has been an unsettling afternoon for our entire family."

Chief Omin raised his wrist-padd again. "You have my deepest apologies Commanders Parmiller and Sebosi. I can assure you that the Four Seasons of Aldebaran III deeply regrets the incident. I'll see to it that your stay is complimentary."

Parmiller spared a glare at the Borg before accepting Chief Omin's hand. "Thank you, Chief. I appreciate your due diligence."

"You are free to go, Commanders," Omin said, handing them back their own IDs.

As the Parmillers made their exit, Admiral Janeway seemed to relax finally. She inhaled deeply. "Chief Omin, I appreciate your due diligence as well."

He closed an eye and lifted his chin. "Oh, you do?"

"Of course," she said. "I'm sure disputes of this nature are quite common and…"

As she was trying to wrap up her placating non-apology, she could hear the thunder of stomps growing louder. She finally turned to the sound which seemed to be gaining momentum behind them. She and Seven of Nine looked in time to see four armed guards in the black uniforms of Aldebaran planetary defense stop in front of them.

They leveled their plasma rifles at Seven of Nine and their commanding officer issued a command: "Surrender now or face instant execution."

Admiral Janeway lifted her arms. "We surrender," she said bleakly, urging Seven to lift her hands in plain view.

One of the soldiers stormed in, cuffing the Borg's wrist behind her back.

"This is unnecessary," Seven replied in a placid voice.

Admiral Janeway whirled on Chief Omin. "What is the meaning of this? What ensued today was a simple misunderstanding between parents!"

"Yes, I agree," he said, handing Janeway the IDs. "But the real crime is the illegal entry of a Borg Drone into Aldebaran space without proper clearance."

"Aldebaran is a member of the Federation," Janeway pointed out. "We are Federation citizens."

"That may be," he said with a shrug. "But there are many factors that need to be considered."

"Such as?" Janeway snapped.

The Chief sighed impatiently. "Admiral Janeway, you of all people should know that Wolf 359 is a mere two sectors away. We had refugees staying here for months after the battle with the Borg, where, if I may remind you, Starfleet lost nearly 40 ships."

"No," Janeway replied reverently. "You don't need to remind us."

He narrowed his eyes on Seven of Nine. "Were you a drone in 2367?"

"I was liberated from the collective by Kathryn Janeway in 2373."

The Chief tapped something into his wrist-pad without looking down. "So that is a yes," he replied. "Were you at Wolf 359 as a Borg Drone?"

Janeway came to full alert. "Seven, don't answer that! He's trying to trap you."

Seven had opened her mouth and closed it, without answering.

Chief Omin smiled blackly. "You'll answer in front of a magistrate then," he said. He nodded to the military men, but spoke into his wrist-padd. "The Borg has been safely apprehended."

"Excellent," came the crystal clear voice through the device. "Make sure Janeway and her ill-conceived brats are escorted to the coordinates as well," replied the unidentified voice on the other end.

Chief Omin nodded, before pressing a link on the wrist padd. He gestured to one of the soldiers, who had remained back.

"Admiral," Chief Omin said in a syrupy voice. "Thank you for staying at the Four Seasons. I hope you enjoyed your stay. Now get the hell out of my hotel."

Janeway squinted at the man. "I'm disappointed you couldn't see to working this out."

A bespeckled man with graying hair, wearing the same black uniform, strolled in with his arms behind his back. He nodded to Chief Omin. "I told you these Starfleet types were going to be obtuse," he muttered, sizing up Janeway. He tossed a small black bag at Chief Omin. It sailed through the air and jingled when Chief Omin caught it mid-air.

Omin uncinched the black cords binding it and glanced at the contents, counting silently while his lips moved. He looked up and smiled at Janeway. "I think I can live with your disappointment, Janeway," he said with a sneer. "Good day, Admiral and Mrs…." He shrugged, not knowing what to call the Borg.

The bespeckled man in the Aldebaran uniform lifted his chin, continuing to peer down on Admiral Janeway. "Somehow, I thought the great Kathryn Janeway, Captain of the Ages, would be _taller_."

"Now you see that…" Janeway said. "Here I thought Aldebaran would be less _corrupt_."

The man stiffened, executing a crisp about-face to stare at the girls. "They look ordinary," he said, sizing up the Janeway sisters.

Dani protectively stepped in front of Shannon, as the man continued to assess them. The maneuver warmed Janeway's heart.

"It's a pity, really," the man said. "We could learn so much."

"Who are you and what are you talking about?" Janeway finally asked.

"Oh, beg pardon," he said, giving Janeway the barest courtesy of a glance as he introduced himself. "I'm Captain-Major Vabalathus, at your service," he said, with a short nod. "And it's a pity because I believe there is so much potential here to study…" he gestured over his shoulder at the girls. "Genetically speaking, of course. But a Magistrate has ordered you, the drone and your children expelled from Aldebaran."

Janeway's brows wrinkled. "Since when is a secret hearing legal?"

The Captain-Major gave her a look. "Nice try, Admiral," he said. "But your stall tactics are fruitless."

He glanced around, and gave a simple gesture with his hand. "Let's move them out."

The men began to herd the women through the door. Janeway acquiesced for the sake of her daughters, but there was something primal inside of her that wanted to scream. _This isn't the Federation I know! This isn't why they'd fought so hard to return. This isn't home! This is all wrong!_

Instead of voicing these concerns, she stopped in front of the Captain-Major. "I would like to contact Starfleet Command now."

"Unnecessary," Captain-Major Vabalathus said, as he gestured for the girls to follow their captive mother. "Aldebaran authorities have intercepted your liaison's ship three sectors away and diverted him to Mariposa colony, where you can rendezvous."

"Is that legal?" Dani asked quietly.

Chief Omin laughed out loud. "Ahh, the innocence of children," he said, shaking his head as he herded the girls out of his office. "That's quite irrelevant."

Dani stopped and turned to look at the official man. "Why is it irrelevant?"

"Because it's done. _Fait accompli_ as they say on Earth."

=/\=

At the bustling space port of Aldebaran III, the crowds began to press into them, heedless of the soldiers and their phasers. In fact, Janeway realized that Aldebaran military at the space port was not an anomaly at all. She wondered when Aldebaran had become a police state, what had become of her beloved Federation and why her debriefing had included none of these changes.

_Because Starfleet Command doesn't know!_

The thought that Starfleet was in the dark seemed to terrify her more than being poked in the back with the business end of a phaser by a belligerent soldier.

_What else doesn't Starfleet Command know?_ she wondered.

Chief Omin had preceded them to the Space Port. "It is here that I bid a fond farewell," Chief Omin said. "Now you may become a diplomatic headache and not mine."

Chief Omin holstered his phaser and tipped his chin at the girls. "Ladies," he said. "May your next visit to Aldebaran III be more restful."

=/\=

Captain-Major Vabalathus thumbed the dangerous ramp that disappeared inside a dubious ship. The transport vessel did not have the appearance of an official Aldebaran ship. It looked like an old freighter that had seen better days. The ramp decking had gaping voids where rust had eaten the grates. The landing struts were charred, along with hull panels. Even Voyager, after 14 hard years, had been in better shape.

"What is this?" Admiral Janeway asked calmly.

"Your transport," he replied. "Paid for by the citizens of Aldebaran—and as you can see, we've spared no expense."

He laughed, as he gestured for the girls to walk into the belly of the neglected beast. Dani looked helplessly at her mother. Those feelings of helplessness tried to muddy Janeway's mind. So she ruthlessly shoved them aside.

"I don't want to go, Cap," Dani squeaked.

Janeway hardened herself against those feelings. They'd only keep her from problem-solving. "You must," Janeway said quietly, careful to give a light touch to the whip of command.

Dani blinked a few tears back and reached behind her for Shannon's hand. Together the girls winded their way up the ramp, as the metal groaned under their weight.

Just before they entered the belly of the ship, there was a call from the deck.

"Admiral Janeway?"

Kathryn saw Captain-Major Vabalathus stiffen and the other soldiers square themselves to the source of the voice. _They were ready to fire_, she thought, shaking her head. _How did things spiral away from her?_

She followed the hard gaze of the soldiers to an ice blonde woman in a gray, form-fitting Starfleet flight suit. The woman marched to a stop in front of her, where she saluted Admiral Janeway. "Lt. Commander Powers," she said curtly as introduction. "I am here to help."

"Your timing is impeccable, Commander," Janeway said.

"You're too late," Captain-Major Vabalathus contradicted. "They are being expelled."

Commander Powers looked behind the soldiers. "Are those your daughters, Admiral?" she asked.

"Yes," Dani and Admiral Janeway replied simultaneously.

"Where's Commodore Seven of Nine?"

"And who are you again, _Commander_?" the Captain-Major inquired, sneering her rank with contempt.

"I have been dispatched to Aldebaran by Starfleet JAG," she said.

The Aldebaran soldier crinkled his brow. "JAG? And that would mean what, precisely?"

"Judge Advocate General," she said meeting his incendiary gaze without a flinch.

"A lawyer?" he snorted. "Well, you're definitely too late. You can meet your clients—well most of them, anyway—on Mariposa Colony."

"Most of them?" Powers repeated the phrase.

"The Borg drone will be charged for crimes against the Federation."

Janeway was impressed with Commander Powers' steely detachment. _It was nearly Borg-like_, she thought. _Exactly what I need right now that my family is under assault._

Powers raised her wrist padd and began to tap into it. "And she is being held where exactly?" She looked up, waiting for an answer.

Vabalathus looked askance at the Commander. "You must think I'm stupid."

Powers gave a ghost of a smile. "Doesn't matter what I believe, don't you agree, Mister…. What is your name?"

"This woman and her children are getting on this transport," he said through gritted teeth. "And there's nothing you can do about it."

Powers dropped her hand. It landed on the phaser holstered at her thigh.

"Leave it," the soldier growled.

Just then a Ferengi with a shrew face emerged the transport. He was dressed in red silk with a matching headdress covering the back of his large head. "You're outgunned, if you didn't realize, hu-mon," he sneered, imbedding his pointed teeth on his lower lip.

Janeway was surprised by the presence of a Ferengi aboard what was supposed to be an official Aldebaran transport. As she studied the man, she realized she'd seen him at the Four Seasons lobby, as she had prepared to pay her bill. Just as realization dawned, Janeway looked at Vabalathus.

"You're not—"

"No," Powers said plaintively.

"We'd hoped to gather the Borg and her—what did Omin say she called them—oh yes, subunits," the Ferengi said. "We'd hoped to whisk you away from these warlike Aldebaran thugs."

The commentary brought a small ripple of laughter among the ranks of seeming Aldebaran soldiers surrounding Dani and Shannon on the deck.

"They aren't Aldebaran soldiers," Janeway murmured.

"Allow me, Admiral," Powers said, almost so low that Janeway, who stood beside her, barely heard.

Powers stepped forward, even as the large crowds of passengers jostled past them all, oblivious to the brewing standoff.

Commander Powers glanced at the other soldiers.

"Don't even think about it, hu-mon," the Ferengi repeated.

Powers dropped her hands to her side. "Oh, I had no intention of drawing my weapon," she said. Then she assessed the crowded port. "Have you ever read ancient Earth jurisprudence, soldier?"

The Ferengi gave her a mocking look.

It made Powers chuckle. "Daft, am I?" she replied.

"Irrelevant," he said. "Mere Starfleet games."

Commander Powers nodded once to Admiral Janeway. _She wants me to trust her,_ the Admiral thought, as she assessed the woman once more. _For being a JAG officer, she wasn't highly ranked or old enough. But what choice do I have? _

Janeway nodded her assent to whatever plan Powers had concocted.

Powers cleared her throat and pointed to a crowded corner. "Fire! There's a fire here!"

It wasn't exactly a shout. Powers seemed too dignified for that. What it didn't have in volume, it made up for in earnest. It apparently was enough. The word spread out among the crowd like a plasma explosion.

Within nanoseconds, the shrieks of the same simple word were reverberating throughout the entire port. What had once been an orderly crowd morphed into an unruly mob ruled by their own fears of burning to death.

Without a single phaser shot, the Janeways disappeared, led by Commander Powers, into the crowd.

=/\=

Admiral Janeway noticed contour lines of the small ship they were about to enter. It was like none she'd ever seen. Rather than the aerodynamic curves that marked most vessels, this one was boxy. But Commander Powers led them there and Janeway implicitly trusted her.

Inside, the Commander unsnapped the top collar of her flight suit. A flap hung down across her chest as threaded her way through the small cabin toward the communication station.

Like all other ships, the station was a blank white slate, devoid of any buttons. When Powers sat at the station, it came alive with three-dimensional keys and energy readings.

"Powers to JAG," she said. "I've got three of the four coins."

"Copy," was the terse reply.

Powers cut the controls and stood up. She offered her hands. "I think proper introductions are in order, Admiral. Lt. Commander Taliesin Powers, at your service."

Kathryn took Powers hand with both of hers. "Thank you, Commander." She gestured toward her daughters. "My daughters, Dani—" The nickname brought a sour look from her eldest and the Admiral self-corrected. "Eridani, that is, and Shannon Janeway."

The Commander offered them her hand. Shannon shook it first but Dani continued to stare at the Starfleet officer until her sister nudged her elbow. "Voyager to bulkhead," she whispered. "Come in, defective bulkhead."

Dani shook her head and took the Commander's hand. "Uh," she managed to garble.

To rescue her daughter from uncharacteristic tongue-tied disease, Admiral Janeway urged the girls to freshen up.

=/\=

Admiral Janeway sized up the cabin. "This must be a new design," she said, as the Commander punched up some figures at what Janeway deduced was the tactical station.

Powers looked up. Her mismatched eye color was electric under the intense cabin light: one was silver with hints of yellow and the other slate gray with a starburst of browns and greens. "I was testing her when I received orders to divert to Aldebaran," she said.

"Did Starfleet Command know that our liaison was diverted to Mariposa Colony?"

"Affirmative," she said, turning back to read the data that streamed in front of her.

"It's unusual for a JAG officer to conduct test flights, Commander," the Admiral said carefully, as she looked around at the completely new design.

"I am not a JAG officer," she said with a chuckle.

Janeway turned back to study their savior. The light of the blue and red data reflected off of Powers' silvery blonde hair, but doing little to the streak of raven black that slashed across one of her temples. "The Aldebaran officer believed you were."

She shrugged. "I never claimed it," she said. "I merely supplied that JAG sent me, which they did indeed."

"So you aren't a member of the legal corps?"

Powers looked up and favored the Admiral for a long moment. "That is not to suggest that I am completely unarmed—figuratively speaking," she said. "Immigration is a…hobby, if you will."

"So you have a plan to get my wife back."

Powers stood up and shut off the console. "More than a plan, Admiral, I can assure you."

=/\=

In the ensuite, Dani stared into the mirror while Shannon busied herself. In her mind's eye, she kept reliving that moment when she first laid eyes on Lt. Commander Taliesin Powers.

Her initial thoughts were elation when the Commander rode in like an understated hero to escape an illegal and unwarranted expulsion. At that moment, her thoughts were about their Borg mother. The accusations against Seven of Nine were unfair and deftly blown out of proportion. Though a portion of her awareness still worried about her mother, there was a new awareness that dominated her thoughts.

During the brief introductions in this ship, Dani had seemed to freeze. The reality was she couldn't believe she was finally receiving telemetry from the green text. But it wasn't helpful. In fact, it had been downright distracting!

_Lt. Commander Taliesin Powers was quite dashing, Dani had remembered thinking as she stood up from the console. The flight suit hugged her lithe and fit body. Her dulcet accent with its long, elegant vowels made Dani hum. _

_When the Commander had offered her small, neatly manicured hand, Dani shivered. "I think proper introductions are in order, Admiral," the Commander had said, like she were addressing royalty. "Lt. Commander Taliesin Powers, at your service."_

At my service_, Dani had thought. _Dayum.

_Cappie was typically cordial. "Thank you, Commander. My daughters, Dani—" _

Why did Cap have to treat her like a child?_ Dani had remembered thinking. _Especially now!

"_Eridani, that is, and Shannon Janeway."_

_This encounter had proved to be unexpectedly earth-shattering. Dani reacted viscerally to the trim woman with silvery blonde mane. The slash of black strands scooped over her silvery yellow eye. Dani felt like both of the mismatched eyes stared into her own soul. _

_The magic was broken by damned telemetry which began to telegraph green text across her visual center: _"This is the person. The love of your life. Hop to it."

_She didn't see the Commander offer a hand, nor did she hear her sister making fun of her inability to sound even remotely coherent. But she felt Shannon's elbow in her ribs, like she would have felt a soft poke in the middle of a fantastic flying dream. _

What does a girl say to the love of her life?_ Dani had thought. That's when a grunt of gigantically embarrassing proportions had parted her blubbering lips. She nearly passed out when she heard herself say, "Uh."_

I'm thinking that's not it,_ she chided herself. _

_Cappie had urged them to clean up and find some chow. _What a stupid relief,_ Dani had thought. _And an epic first-impression disaster!

_Shannon tried to shove her way past Dani in the corridor, but her older sister had pinned her against the bulkhead. "What's your problem?" Shannon had wailed. _

"_You," Dani growled, letting her go. "Me. Everything."_

"_Hormones, I'd say," Shannon said, rubbing her shoulder as her sister let her go._

_If the green text didn't mention her Borg mother, that must mean everything would work out, she reasoned. It was a big consolation to an otherwise colossal fail._

=/\=

Back in the present, the four women, two of them complete in official Starfleet regulation uniforms, made their way through the crowded streets of Aldebaran. "This used to be a rather remote outpost," the Admiral said to the woman marching intensely beside her.

"Fourteen years has brought a great deal of change, Admiral," she replied, as she swiped some data from her wrist-padd. "The Federation boundaries have grown by…." She punched up a number in mid-air as they walked.

Janeway frowned, wondering how anyone could walk, read a 3D projection that seemed to skew itself at the slightest touch and crunch numbers, all while managing not to run into passersby. It was an acceleration of multi-tasking she wasn't sure she could attempt, much less succeed at. _Maybe I should retire_, Janeway thought pessimistically.

The Admiral glanced back to make sure her daughters were trailing close. "Keep up, girls," she said.

"The Federation population has increased by 23 percent while its boundaries have grown by nearly twice that," she said.

Commander Powers gestured ahead toward a large gray building ahead. To Admiral Janeway it looked like an official Aldebaran III government facility, complete with waving red pennons, emblazoned with twin yellow orbs for the two suns.

"Not there, Admiral," Powers said, gesturing to a warehouse a few kilometers beyond. "I believe that's the building where we'll find Commodore Seven of Nine."

She stopped abruptly and regarded the two girls. "Perhaps it would be best if your children remained here."

Janeway took in the pristine Aldebaran government building, lined with blue Arfillian ficus, neatly manicured to resemble round topiary.

Janeway nodded, earning a cry of protest from the girls. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I need for you both remain somewhere I don't have to worry about you."

The tone was sharp enough to brook no argument and so the girls nodded glumly.

"Five minutes," Powers said, earning a look of skepticism from Janeway. "I assure you, Admiral."

=/\=

The warehouse looked desolate, its walls cracking and chipping under the hot twin suns of Aldebaran. With no windows to speak of, Janeway received no warning of the abandoned state of it inside. Dust blanketed the ground, marred only by a trek of boots. The walls shot up three stories, and were covered in rusted scaffolding. Dusty storage bins littered the corners of the vast warehouse, forming makeshift walls.

"How will we find her?" the Admiral said bleakly, for Commander Powers' ears only.

Commander Powers gave a penetrating gaze to the Admiral, as if she was about to reveal something. But rather than speak, she yanked her arm forward, tugging her sleeve to reveal a small projection from her wrist-padd. A red point blinked inaudibly, remaining stationary as Powers completed snappy right-degree turns with exacting precise military flanks.

"This is an outrage," Janeway snapped in a whisper. "A complete breach of faith, not to mention protocol."

"This homing device is completely top secret," Powers said gravely. "Under no circumstances is it to be discussed."

"You didn't tell me," Janeway answered coolly, understanding the new word games that would be needed to navigate the new Federation and Starfleet.

"No, I did not," she said, nodding with her chin ahead of them. "This way." She led them to a small room tucked away at the far edge. Its dust-caked windows still managed to seep light from within.

=/\=

To Janeway's surprise, Commander Powers sauntered in, as if she'd been expected. It alarmed her, as if she were a part of this bizarre conspiracy.

In the dusty room, there was chair in the middle, with Seven seated and cuffed to it. She appeared unharmed.

She was flanked by two men, both dressed as an Aldebaran planetary security officers and a single Ferengi. "Your cooperation will be rewarded," said one of the Ferengi, as the pair of rescuers walked in.

The Ferengi hissed and pointed at the security officers. "Aim your phasers at the hu-mons," he said.

Powers arms raised and she wiggled her fingers to show her hands were empty of weapons. "Mr. Meeg, I presume," she said with a nod to the Ferengi in charge. He was dressed in teal and gold.

The Ferengi narrowed his green eyes. "Damon Meeg, if you please."

She inclined her head. "We've come for the Borg."

He crossed his arms. "She's mine," he said.

Janeway bristled and stepped forward to disabuse him of that notion. She had opened her mouth when she felt an arm press against her middle. Powers was waving her off.

Powers unzipped a thigh pocket of her flight suit, earning two phaser barrels at her chest. She raised her hands. "My credentials," she announced.

"Slowly," Damon Meeg hissed.

She slowly inserted two fingers and pulled out her ID card between two crossed fingers. She tossed it on the floor, an eddy of dust puffed up, making Damon Meeg cough as he reached for it.

"So what?" he said. "This is Aldebaran, not interstellar space."

"Is gold-pressed latinum valuable here as well?" Powers added wryly, as she nodded to her ID.

"How much?" he said, staring at the card.

"Two strips of latinum."

His mouth formed a grim line. "That hardly covers the cost of bribery—Omin was…expensive."

"Four—"

"Eight…" he countered.

"Done," she said, offering her hand for a shake.

"You didn't let me finish," he said.

She turned her hand palm up, urging him to complete his statement.

"Eighty….nine _bars_ and ninety _strips_ of gold pressed latinum."

Her eyebrow zoomed up above the mismatched pair of eyes.

"My overhead was astronomically high," he said. "You can't expect me to take a loss. Rule of Acquisition number 62…the riskier the road—"

"I accept, but only if you spare me the recitation."

He clamped his mouth instantly. "Done," he said with a maniacal smile.

She shook his hand. "Very well, Damon Meeg. We'd like to be taking our _purchase_ and leave, if you please."

"I'm sure your credit is impeccable," he said slyly. "But it never hurts to verify."

"Have at it, then, but release the Commodore while you transfer your fee."

"Of course," he purred, nodding to one of his comrades-at-arms. Seven rubbed the wrist of her human hand and stood.

"Thank you," she said, meeting Powers' gaze. "You are Captain Powers."

Powers held out a hand in greeting. "Commander Powers," she corrected.

"Not yet," Seven stated quietly.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Powers said, keeping her eyes on the twin guards.

"Darling, are you okay?" Kathryn asked, trying to size up the Borg and wanting desperately to touch her.

"I am functioning," she stated evenly.

Kathryn brushed a palm over the silk strands that strayed behind her temple. "Quite a day," she said.

"One that Q is responsible for," she stated, telling Kathryn in six clandestine words that the others could not possible understand.

"Is that it?" Kathryn said with a sigh. "Even the boy?"

"He was the one in the first vision."

"And…" Kathryn gestured to Powers who stepped away from them, leaving them to their cautious reunion.

Seven glanced again at the woman. There was no doubt she was the Captain of Eridani's ship, the _U.S.S. Maathai_. It would be better to keep her off the bridge of a ship and Shannon away from the subunit Tybelius Parmiller. "Yes," she said quietly.

"And this kidnapping?"

Seven considered it question, bewilderment marring the beauty of the Borg's face. "I am…uncertain."

Kathryn frowned and muttered, "Damn Q," under her breath.

By this time, Damon Meeg returned with a smile. "Thank you for your business," he said, handing Powers back her card. "Do come again."

Powers slipped it into her thigh pocket and zipped it. "We'll be going."

"Of course," he said. "Of course." He glanced at the guards, who still levied their phasers on the three women. "Now, stop that," he ordered casually. "We should always treasure our customers."

Powers gestured for the women to leave, while she walked out backwards.

"I'm offended," Damon Meeg said to her retreating figure.

"Apologies," she said, before closing the door to their exit.

=/\=

On board the experimental ship, Powers was at the helm guiding them along course toward Earth. She was conversing with Starfleet headquarters, as Kathryn and Seven stood back near the replicator station.

Kathryn wrapped both hands around a mug of coffee, sipping as she listened to Seven's implausible explanation for the Four Seasons confrontation. When she had finished, Kathryn finally looked at her Seven for a long time, studying the lines of her face. "You may have caused this timeline to veer toward Q's future," she said, more harshly than she intended.

Seven flicked a brow. "Or I may have diverted it," she stated coolly.

Kathryn rolled her eyes up. "And what of your kidnapping?"

"Attempted kidnapping," Seven corrected, earning a stern look from the Admiral. "In any event, that was not forecasted in the Q vision."

Twin lines formed between Kathryn's eyebrows. "What did Q say about you?"

Seven looked away, flicking an eyebrow. "Very little," she stated coolly. "Only that I had been terminated."

"Terminated?" Kathryn hissed. "How could you omit that little bit of data?"

She finally looked directly into Kathryn's eyes. "Because I will not allow it to happen. I will not be separated from you prematurely."

Kathryn's gaze softened and she reached up to cup Seven's cheek, rubbing a finger along the starburst. "And I support you 100 percent in this venture," she said.

"But?" Seven said.

"There is no but."

"Then we are agreed," she said coolly, though her body slipped closer to Kathryn's.

"Yes, darling," Kathryn said meekly.

The uncharacteristic surrender brought Seven to full alert and Kathryn felt the Borg stiffen under her hand. "What?"

"I was bracing for an argument."

Kathryn shook her head. "You'll get none from me, not now. Not when our long waited journey home comes to an end."

Seven finally relaxed and dipped her head to capture Kathryn's lips in a soft kiss. Kathryn moaned lightly, but the mood was interrupted by a hiss of protest. "Aw, c'mon, you guys," Shannon said. "Don't start that here."

Kathryn tried not to smile, but she was unsuccessful. "I see you are awake," she said, turning to see her youngest daughter with her arms crossed over her blossoming chest.

"Yeah, and hungry," she said, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Only then did Kathryn realize they were blocking the singular replicator station. "Of course, my little darling," she said thickly.

Shannon narrowed her eyes at Cappie's uncharacteristic buttery tone.

"What?" she asked, flourishing a hand toward the replicator.

"I was waiting for the boom to drop."

Cappie glanced at Seven with a frown. "All of you make me sound like an ogre."

"A Starfleet Captain," Seven and Shannon said together.

Just then Dani walked into the main deck, yawning with a long stretch of the lanky arms. She chuckled. "Uh, we're going to have to come up with a new nickname, Cap."

"That's too bad," Cappie said sarcastically.

"How about Meemaw?" Shannon said with a giggle as she entered her replicator order.

"Absolutely not!" Kathryn shouted.

With her shoulders still shaking, Dani offered her own: "What about mamoooshka?"

Both girls guffawed loudly, while both parental units hardened their faces.

"No," Kathryn said again, shaking her head for emphasis.

"What about AJ?" Seven asked quietly.

Kathryn stared at her, puzzled for a moment until Shannon exclaimed: "It's perfect. Admiral Janeway—AJ! Get it?"

Dani wrapped a long arm around Janeway's shoulders and crushed the woman to her body. "It is perfect," she said, looking down at her mother. "It's short and cute, just like you."

Janeway crinkled her nose. It was only then that she'd realized that both girls had grown and that she was now the shortest one in the family. "Thank you, but I am not—"

"Diminutive?" Seven said with a hint of amusement. "Perhaps not, compared to a Ferengi, but compared to one of us…."

Janeway closed her eyes, trying to look offended. But she was too content to have her family near her and be heading home to Indiana. It was perfect and life was perfect and it was about damn time things shape up for the better. "If you like it," she said, opening her eyes again to behold the mirth in her children's faces.

"We do!" Shannon said, around a mouthful of Bolian soufflé.

"Very well," Kathryn said, looking up at Seven. "I hope you're happy."

Seven tipped Kathryn's chin with a curled index finger. "Immensely," she replied, before pecking her lips .

"Eww," Shannon said, swiveling her chair away from the kissing parents. "Are we back to that?"

"Back to it?" Kathryn said with an amused look. "I hope we never leave."

She winked at Seven who did not relinquish her gaze. "Indeed."

The End

A/N: Epilogue to follow.


	15. Epilogue: Homecoming

**Living Daylights**

Epilogue: Homecoming

An experimental shuttle, the _U.S.S. Bellatrix_, was cleared to take the Janeways to Sector Zero Zero One. Admiral Janeway had given the small ship a thorough inspection, despite its top secret designation. Of course, being out of the technological loop for nearly two-and-a-half decades meant that even a new replicator was more advanced than she'd seen in a while.

From the new stardrive warp engines to the buttonless interfaces, the Admiral was unsure what the key component was. When Commander Powers slipped on a pair of spectacles and began to controlling the entire ship from them, well, that had to be it. But Powers was evasive, neither confirming nor denying anything. So Kathryn turned her attention to Seven, while the girls slept.

On final approach, Commander Powers activated the viewscreen, as she requested permission to land. A three-dimensional view of a blue globe with swirling white clouds appeared before them. Kathryn Janeway's breath caught at the first sight of Earth in so long. Her eyes watered and she swiped at them with the cuff of her sleeve.

"There's Earth, my darlings," she whispered. "In all her majesty."

"Hmm," Shannon replied. "It looks like, oh, a dozen planets from the Delta Quadrant."

Kathryn merely shook her head. "Not to me," she murmured. "It looks like heaven."

Kathryn felt someone press against her, and automatically, she threaded an arm around Seven's middle. "Isn't it beautiful?" she asked, unable to tear her eyes from the view.

"It is lovely indeed," Seven said in monotone.

She glanced at Dani, who seemed unusually subdued for the last leg of their journey. She was staring not at the rotating image of home, but rather at Commander Powers.

"Dani?" Kathryn whispered.

When Powers reached out a gloved hand to deploy the landing struts, Dani watched her intently, her eyes moving down along the woman's arm. It's like she's never seen a landing procedure, Kathryn thought curiously. "Dani?" she said louder.

The girl jumped and her freckles disappeared under a momentary flush of red. "Huh? What?"

"Are you okay, sweetheart?"

She looked around puzzled and then went wide-eyed at the image of the globe as if she'd noticed it for the first time. "Wow," she whispered.

Kathryn waited for Dani to say something else, when she didn't she just shrugged it off as (more) adolescent angst. Instead, she focused on the landing procedure.

"Commander, where are we setting down?" Kathryn asked.

Powers made a few more adjustments to the projection. Without turning back, she lifted a single finger. "Venting plasma," she said, before swiping a projected control in mid-air. A soundless blue alert began to signal aboard the ship.

"You are clear to land, _Bellatrix_," came a reply from the Earth's surface.

"New Chicago, Admiral," she said, her focus still on piloting the vessel. "Is that acceptable?"

"Of course," she said. "It's the closest I've been to Bloomington in long time."

=/\=

The New Chicago spaceport was teeming with representatives of every race in the Federation, or so it appeared to Kathryn Janeway. There were many races she had never seen before: some with transparent skin, which the scientist in her found difficult to look away from the beating hearts or the blue blood; or the turquoise feathers of another, who strutted about as if they'd owned the entire spaceport. Then there were other races, like her very own, whose ornamentation had changed significantly.

She squinted at a couple, who appeared to be wearing ultra-tight fitting clothing. Seven of Nine's voice intruded on her rude gawping. "That is not clothing, Kathryn," she said. "They are wearing pigment."

"Pigment!" Kathryn said too loudly, drawing the attention of Commander Powers.

"Paint," Powers said. "They're called Starkers as in—"

"They're naked!" Kathryn hissed.

"That's correct, Admiral, but I believe this may concern you more."

Kathryn slowly turned to look at Powers, who gestured with her unmatched eyes behind her. Only then did Kathryn realize that her daughters were each clearly riveted by the dangling assets parading before them.

The pair of sisters stood still as statues about two meters behind them, clearly having spotted the "Starkers" long before Kathryn had. Shannon's eyes were fixed on the male's purple penis hanging from an orange nest while Dani's were focused on the companion's generous twin peaks of pale green.

"All right, girls," Kathryn said. "I think it's time to walk a bit faster."

Both neither blinked nor gave any indication they'd even heard.

"Man, oh, man," Shannon whispered.

"She's got red tipped tit—"

"That's enough!" Kathryn said, stepping between them and their live show. She raised her arms to block as much of their view as possible.

Both girls tried to crane their necks but their tall Borg mother reinforced Kathryn's position by standing behind her.

"Cappie," Shannon said, forgetting her mother's new designation, "we're acquainting ourselves with the Federation races."

"Yeah, exactly," Dani croaked. "This is a sociological study. Nothing more." Dani waved her hand for emphasis.

"Starkers are inappropriate research material," Janeway pronounced, trying to lower her voice as passersby gave her startled looks.

"But why?" Shannon asked.

The chirp of a Starfleet message sounded behind her and before she could respond to the girls, Powers was interrupting her.

"Admiral, incoming message on my comm for you."

Janeway took the offered wristband, giving Seven a pointed look before stalking off to a quiet corner.

Powers slipped her hands behind her back and watched as Seven attempted to triage the situation. "Perhaps this is the proper time index for our designated 'solitary meditation," Seven said, earning a few groans from her children.

"We're not two years old, Mom," Shannon grumbled with an eye roll. "Besides, the Starkers are gone."

Seven straightened. "That is for the best," she said. "As you both seemed unusually plagued by excessive discomfiture regarding discussions of a sexual nature."

Seven was about to inquire at the girls' sudden about face from her and each other, when Janeway summoned her over to the corner of the noisy spaceport. "Excuse me," she said to Powers.

=/\=

Commander Powers clasped her hands in front of her now. "Well," she said quietly, carefully avoiding the girls' eyes. "That was particularly cringe worthy, as far as awkward 'mum moments' go."

"Yah," Shannon said with a snort. "And we've got two!"

Dani would ordinarily snap out of her malaise with the sound of Shannon's laughter, but Commander Powers' proximity was interfering with her internal compass. It was like the needle that kept her standing up had gone haywire. North was South.

But it was easy to get lost looking at her. Dani watched Commander Powers for hours during the shuttle flight. She could probably draw the flecks of hammered gold and emerald in her right eye. The left one, silver with yellow would be a little trickier, unless she could get close. Real close. Like close enough to touch their lips together.

Dani closed her eyes and groaned at the very thought.

But a sharp elbow to her ribs was a rude awakening.

"What's wrong?"

Shannon's voice could be so irritating, she thought, without opening her eyes.

"Are you sick, Dani?" Shannon asked again.

Dani covered her face with a palm and shook her head.

"Just knackered perhaps?" Powers inquired.

Dani spread her fingers, allowing an eye to peak out at the mismatched pair watching her. "What does that mean?" she murmured against her own wrist.

"Tired, I suppose." Powers turned this way and that.

Dani dropped her hand and stared at the sinew stretching tightly by the woman's throat as she appeared to search for something. She was wondering what sensations her lips would feel if she pressed them to the woman's pulse point just below her jawline.

"There's a Risian café down a few meters," Powers said, turning to regard Dani with evident concern. "If you're feeling absolutely shattered from your trip that may be a brilliant spot—maybe order a cup of tea." Powers tipped her head forward, trying to meet Dani's wandering eyes.

Dani lifted her gaze, her stomach doing a somersault when Powers offered a consoling smile. She couldn't help but respond in kind. But while the Commander's smile was quiet like the tinkling of chimes on a gorgeous spring day, Dani knew her own smile was probably too loud like a thousand copies of Neelix each stoked up on his "even better than coffee" coffee and babbling at a trillion words a second. But she couldn't help it!

"Hmm, Eridani?" Powers said. "What do you say?"

Dani's eyes fell to Powers' chin. Dani couldn't decide if it was a noble chin that made her look strong and regal for its prominence, or it looked like a delicious scoop of ice cream with the merest hint of a clef. She licked her lips and decided she like the idea of the second. Before she could even delve into that fantasy, Shannon's three-word question made her want to crawl under some warp coils and just vaporize right there.

"Are you constipated?"

Before she could edit herself, Dani scowled at her younger sister. "Are _you_ mental?!"

"Me?! You're the one acting like a crippled Tak Tak!"

Dani lunged forward, Shannon squeaked and shuffled backward. Powers unexpectedly stepped in between the feuding sisters, taking the brunt of Dani's accelerated advance. The young woman inhaled sharply when her fairly flat chest slammed into Powers' ample endowments.

Dani lifted apologetic eyes. "Sorry," she whispered. The unbearable heat of her blush zoomed across her face, but she couldn't tear herself away from the woman. Not when she was this close.

"Nonsense," Powers whispered back, giving her another faint smile. She steadied Dani by the elbows and lifted her brows in a wordless question.

"I'm-I'm-I'm fine," she said, staring into the fathomless mismatched pair. "Maybe I am just knockered."

Powers chuckled, letting her arms fall to her side. "Knackered, actually."

Shannon snorted and whispered a mocking echo of the incorrect word.

Commander Powers and Eridani Janeway studied each other wordlessly for a long moment. Dani could feel the rhythm of her own heartbeat; its beat keeping time with the symphony of harps that sounded in her own head, blanking the loud din of the spaceport.

"All right, then," Powers finally said.

When she withdrew a couple of paces and glanced in the direction of the Risian café, Dani felt like crying. She had wanted that moment to last forever. Instead she let the anger bubble up. _Damn whoever is sending me these stupid messages_, she thought crossly. _Knowing isn't better! I wouldn't be acting stupid, if I was ignorant of our future._

The Commander twisted in the other direction, looking for the Admiral. Dani's eyes followed and saw that Cappie—_I mean AJ!_—had that fierce look she got when she wasn't getting her way. And her other mother looked like she always looked, calm and uninterested.

"They seem to be quite absorbed," Powers said.

"Quite," Dani replied, mimicking even the slight accent.

Powers smirked, before marching in the other direction. "Let's move," she said with the whip of command.

Dani was very glad to pull behind the Commander. She was willowy, but graceful. _Damn cute_, Dani thought. She slowly exhaled through her mouth. She was hoping that the Risian café was several kilometers away, until an all too familiar voice danced in her ear.

"You think Commander Powers is warp-core hot, don't you?"

Dani's nose crinkled, but kept her attention straight ahead. "You better shut up, Pita," she hissed.

"I knew it," Shannon said, uncrossing her arms so she could walk double time just to keep up with the longer legged sister. "Pipsqueak has fallen in lust."

Dani whacked Shannon's shoulder, but she managed to keep pace with the determined strides of Commander Powers.

"Wait till I tell—"

Dani whirled around and grabbed Shannon by the shoulders. "You are such a Pain-In-The-Astrid! You know that?"

Shannon elbowed her way clear of Dani's grip. "You're hurting me, Dani," she whispered.

Dani ran a hand through her hair. "Geez," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Shay. You just drive me nuts! You know that!"

"Did you ever think she may not even be _into_ women?"

"Oh, go clean a plasma conduit, will ya?" Dani turned and left Shannon standing there.

She hadn't even considered that possibility. The sender of the messages she received since coming to this timeline had always been truthful, albeit murky. He'd never toyed with her. "Doesn't mean he can't start," Dani whispered. The very idea made her so mad she wanted to spit.

As she approached the restaurant, Commander Powers waited seemingly patient at the hostess station.

Within a meter of the Commander, Dani didn't want to spit. She didn't want to do anything but watch the woman and enjoy the long, elegant vowels of her accent and trill of her "r's."

And she wanted to grin at the woman. "That's the spirit, Eridani," the Commander said on her approach.

The comment made her smile even more, until her face hurt.

=/\=

The trio were ensconced in a booth, with soft lighting overhead. The sisters perched opposite the Commander. Shannon had just finished her uttaberry fluff pastry while Dani left most of her Delavian chocolate pie uncharacteristically untouched.

"So you really don't care for Starfleet then?" Commander Powers asked Dani before taking a small sip of her tea.

Dani was tempted to tell Powers that she adored Starfleet, especially with such sexy Lieutenant Commanders walking around. But unfortunately, Shannon was sitting next to her and she just knew that Shannon would bark like a Talaxian hyena at the comment. It wouldn't be pretty. "No, but I'm changing my mind," she said quietly.

The comment elicited a clipped guffaw from beside her. "Dani doesn't like discipline, if truth be told," Shannon said.

Powers carefully replaced the white teacup onto the saucer before responding. "No one does, really," she said. She was sitting in front of Dani and always took the time to make eye contact when she wanted to emphasize a point, whether they'd been discussing vacation spots in the Federation or the latest musical artists. But Powers seemed to make more of an effort this time to applaud Starfleet's higher ideals. "Just remember, discipline is a byproduct of Starfleet service, not a prerequisite," she said. "I speak from experience."

"Were you a rule breaker?" Dani asked, trying to camouflage the overzealous interest.

She lifted her eyes upward, running her fingers along the supply skin of her throat. Still she wore the gloves, Dani noticed curiously.

When Powers caught Dani staring at her gloved hands, she slid them slyly under the table. "'Rule breaker' isn't the correct term for me," she said mysteriously. "I'd call it…."

"Insubordination?" Dani and Shannon said simultaneously.

The spontaneous question made Powers light up in delight. "Are the pair of you guilty of such?"

"She is," the sisters said simultaneously, each pointing to the other.

Powers actually chuckled. The laugh was a first since they'd made the Starfleet Officer's acquaintance. It was soft and husky and completely adorable.

"I believe a pattern is emerging here," she replied.

"What pattern?" AJ's voice carried from the few steps away. Seven of Nine who was beside her, was carrying the wrist communicator.

Powers slid out of the booth. "You found us," she said, taking the proffered communicator from the Commodore. "I hadn't realized it was so late, Admiral. My apologies."

AJ waved a hand. "No apologies necessary, Commander. We are grateful you were able to keep Frick and Frack out of the spaceport brig."

Dani was too busy admiring the straight, white teeth of Powers' rare grin to be insulted. Shannon took up the cause with an indignant "hey!"

"Not at all," Powers said, slurring her words together. Then she assumed what Dani could only describe as her command mask. "Your transportation is ready whenever you are, Admiral Janeway, and I've also made arrangements at the New Chicago Conrad Hotel for you and your family, in case you'd prefer to start fresh in the morning."

AJ was genuinely surprised and appreciative.

"Commander," Seven said. "You have gone well above and beyond what we expected and we are grateful."

"I'm glad I did it," AJ said cryptically.

"As am I," Seven replied.

Without any hint of curiosity, Powers merely turned back to business, tapping out keys on the wrist-comm. "So what will it be, Admiral Janeway and Commodore Seven?"

AJ frowned. "Aren't you the least bit curious about what I'm glad about?"

Powers dropped the arm fastened with the wrist-comm. "I'm game," she said stiffly.

AJ rolled her eyes. "At ease, Commander, before you sprain something!"

When Powers' shoulders only seemed to stiffen, Admiral Janeway offered one of her own rare crooked smiles. "That's an order, Commander."

Powers finally relented, slipping her hands behind her back and allowing herself the faintest smile. "Very well," she stated finally. "I am curious."

Admiral Janeway closed one eye and tipped her head to the side. "Are you sure you aren't Borg?" she asked.

Powers furrowed her brow and licked her lips. She appeared unsure about how to reply. _Clearly she was a diplomatic savant_, Janeway thought amusingly.

Mercifully, Seven chimed in. "My wife considers her commentary to be humorous," she said dryly. "It is wise not to argue."

Janeway gave Seven a look of mock outrage, before returning to the matter. "In any event, Commander, I spoke with Starfleet Command and, as an Admiral, I will require an aide-de-camp. It's yours if you want it."

Powers stared at Janeway for a long moment. It was enough time for Janeway to notice that her eldest daughter had come to full attention, also. And for not the hundredth time today, she found that Dani was staring at Powers. She'd never known Dani to be particularly bothered by other people's disabilities, no matter how slight.

Though Powers spoke with a Northern European Sector accent, it was clear that she'd experienced some degree of hearing loss by the rare omission of a certain, hard consonant at the end of some of her words. That could explain how some of Powers' words seemed devoid of emotion, Janeway thought.

"The post will mean a promotion to full commander," Janeway said quickly, trying to appeal to the woman. "And most of all, I promise not to make bad jokes."

"I don't know what to say, Admiral," Powers said.

Janeway tipped her head. "You don't know what to say—I'll take it; or you don't know what to say—I'll pass."

"I don't know what to say—may I think on it?"

Janeway pursed her lips. "Absolutely," she said. "Take your time. I've got several months leave I have to take."

"Thank you," Powers said, lifting her arm to stare into the wrist-comm. "As for your plans…will you leave today or tomorrow?"

"Today," Janeway said, while Seven of Nine in chorus: "Tomorrow."

Janeway chuckled. "I apologize, darling," she said, turning to take Seven's hand, lifting her knuckles to kiss them. "Seven's absolutely right. It is rather late."

"Starfleet had quite the confab then," Powers said, tapping projected keys as she spoke.

"Well," Janeway said sheepishly.

"We conferred with Admiral Patterson for a mere five-point-two minutes," Seven said, flicking her brow at her spouse. "It required forty-five-point-eight-nine minutes for Admiral Janeway to relinquish your wrist-comm to me and another fifteen-point-four minutes for me to triangulate your position with it."

"That much detail was really unnecessary," Janeway said, with a hint of humor. She winked at Commander Powers. "I have issues with some technology," she whispered a little chagrined.

"_Some_ is inaccurate," Seven replied.

"The replicator," Dani chimed in.

Shannon added: "A medical tricorder—"

"That's enough," Janeway snapped playfully. "I'm sure the Commander has better things to do than listen to a pair of…girls."

"Cheeky," Powers whispered as she continued to finalize the family's travel plans on her wrist-padd.

"Excuse me?" Janeway said.

Powers looked up. "The term you were searching for is cheeky, as in a 'pair of cheeky girls'," she said. She seemed to force herself not to look at Janeway's daughters, instead returning to her comm readouts again.

"Cheeky," Janeway said, eyeing both of her daughters.

"Cheeky, but honest," Shannon added. "You still did take forever."

Janeway pursed her lips at her youngest and pulled her in for a hug. "Thank goodness, your mother was there to save me." Suddenly a puzzled look washed over Janeway and she asked: "How did the wrist-comm find you, if you weren't holding it?"

Seven tipped her head, awaiting the answer.

Without looking up, Powers tapped a seemingly embroidered Starfleet emblem at left chest. The wrist-comm chirped in response. "Some technology hasn't been entirely abandoned, Admiral."

"That's comforting," she said with a sniff.

Powers dropped her arm and looked up triumphantly. "Hotel arrangements are finalized, Admiral. The Conrad Hotel awaits. I'll leave your travel itinerary with the hotel, if that will be suffice."

Janeway's face softened. "Thank you, Commander Powers. For everything and yes, that's wonderful."

"You're welcome, Admiral and I'll be in touch."

=/\=

Kathryn Janeway, dressed fashionably in a green button down shirt with wide collars and three-quarter length sleeves. Black slacks hugged her slender legs with heeled boots covering her feet. She stood under the Conrad Hotel's portico, holding up a single antique key by a round keychain that a young man dressed in a red military-style uniform had just handed her.

"What is this?" she asked, while Seven of Nine, in a blue biosuit and her daughters, looked on.

"You're Admiral Janeway, right?" the man asked, a little crestfallen.

"Yes, but how did you know?"

He sized up Seven of Nine. "Commodore Powers said you'd be along inquiring about transportation just about now. She arranged for it and that there is the key."

"For what did she arrange?" Seven asked dubiously.

The man stepped to one side, flourishing toward an archaic vehicle behind him. "This," he said, "Is your transportation."

"What is it?" Shannon asked skeptically.

"A 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air," he said. "Or at least that's what the Commodore said it was."

Kathryn slowly walked around the two-door convertible automobile. It was a candy apple red to the very tips of its sleek tail fins, with shiny chrome trim.

"Gorgeous," Janeway whispered, running her fingertips along the wings of the shuttlecraft ornament decorating its hood. "I wonder if it's a replica or the real thing."

"Real thing," the parking attendant said. "It has to be."

Seven took in the sleek aerodynamic lines and the white wall tires, before turning her attention to the controls inside. "Internal combustion engine. Fossil fuels," she said with a disapproving sniff. "A crude means of transportation, to say the least."

Janeway laughed, grabbing the key out of the air after she'd tossed it up. "I think it's marvelous!" She turned to the attendant. "If memory serves, it has a storage compartment for our things."

Before she'd even finished, he'd popped the trunk and placed their luggage inside.

She flourished toward the vehicle after opening the passenger side door. "This, my darlings, is riding in style."

"Internal combustion?" Shannon replied with a hint of distaste. "That technology is archaic."

"So is my mother," AJ smirked, as she pushed a lever on the front seat, allowing it to fold so Shannon and then her sister could file into the back. When Seven continued to watch her, Kathryn flourished a hand again. "After you, darling."

Kathryn waved her hands, palms down to indicate she was about to close the door. When her family was safely ensconced inside, Kathryn skipped happily behind the vehicle to the driver's side.

She bounded in, nestled her bottom into the leather seat and then smiled. The grin faded as she looked around.

"For what do you search?" Seven asked.

"The ignition," she said. "That's where the key goes. Do you see a hole or something?"

"Check the steering column," the parking attendant said.

"Ah," she said. "Here it is." The key inserted smoothly and the Admiral waited for something to happen.

"You'll have to turn the key," he added, making the motion with his own hand. "But first everyone should buckle up for safety." He gestured to the strip of woven material hanging beside the Admiral.

She reached over and tugged it, inserting the end into its apparent anchor. She took a deep breath and placed both hands on the white steering wheel. "Ready?" she said, looking at the girls through the rearview mirror.

The attendant jumped, hitting his jacket over his chest as if he were looking for something tucked there. "The Commodore asked me to give these."

"What is it?"

"A wrist-comm programmed with turn-by-turn directions to your destination."

She thanked him and took it, handing it Seven. It gave Seven the chance to see the wild gleam in her eye. "You are excited," Seven stated needlessly.

"Just a little," she whispered. Then she turned her attention to the vehicle's operation. "Okay, turn the key."

When the car roared like a lion roused from slumber, Seven braced herself against the door, making Janeway chuckle. "S'okay, darling," she murmured.

"When did you learn to operate such a vehicle?" Seven asked, making the girls sit up close to listen to Kathryn's response.

She glanced at the girls' worried look and frowned. "Tom Paris gave me a few lessons when Voyager had found a 1937 Ford pickup floating in some debris."

"Pickup?" Seven said.

"Pickup what?" Shannon asked.

"Pickup truck," Kathryn said, annoyance evident in her voice.

Seven reached across the car and tugged Kathryn's chin her way. She leaned in with puckered lips. The move softened the Admiral's demeanor. Their lips met halfway. The brief peck still produced a cry of protest from the backseat.

"Are we smooching or driving?" Dani asked with a hint of disgust.

Janeway gave Dani a chiding look through the rearview mirror and then looked straight ahead. "Okay," she said to herself. "Switch gear to drive—whoah!"

The large car lurched forward before Kathryn slammed the brake. "Oops," she said. She could feel the burn of a blush on her ears. "I forgot to engage the brake first."

Seven adjusted herself to look forward. "It is fortunate that others on Voyager performed the actual navigation, rather than her captain."

"I'm just a little rusty," she said with an amiable laugh. "Okay, kids. Let's roll!"

=/\=

In the open road, Kathryn slipped on sunglasses she found stored in the sun visor. "Let's open this baby up and see what she's got." She pressed the gas pedal, watching intermittently as the speed gauge inched over.

Seven wondered why she had never known about Kathryn's fixation with speed. The woman was resting an elbow on an open window, while her other arm draped casually by the wrist from the white steering wheel. She'd ripped out the band of her ponytail a while back. Now her auburn hair whipped back and every once in a while Kathryn leaned into the whipping wind and inhaled deeply.

"You are content," Seven said.

Kathryn turned slightly, her eyes bouncing between the black road and her wife. "What did you say?" she yelled. "I didn't hear you."

Seven squeezed the woman's thigh. "Later," she mouthed.

Kathryn gave her a rakish grin and nodded. "Later indeed," was her soundless reply.

=/\=

Gretchen Janeway arched into the hand at her back. She knocked her floppy straw hat back, where it hung from a leather strap around her neck and she wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. That's when she saw it. A plume of dust the size of a Category One tornado following a red car across the dirt road that led to Ironside Farm. "What in the world?"

_That couldn't be those Starfleet yokels_, she thought. They'd have enough sense to use the transporter kept in her husband's study. She glanced at her watch. The small second hand ticked around tirelessly. It was the exact time Starfleet said they'd contact her. They had news about her daughter, Kathryn. She'd been lost in the Delta Quadrant. Starfleet Command had maintained some contact with them through an alien array, but some years ago the communication just stopped, as if they'd been destroyed.

This reminded her of the time they'd come to tell her that her Eddie had been killed in action on Tau Ceti Prime, along with her daughter's fiancé.

Gretchen sat down beside a pitcher of lemonade. The ice tinkled the glass and the lemon slices swirled around as she reached into a pocket of her pink smock. She opened the silvery flask and stared at it. She might need this later, if past becomes prologue. She poured herself a generous amount of it into her tumbler, downing the cocktail in one drink.

She watched the red car get closer until finally it came to rest beside the two-story Victorian house that she called home. Only then did she glimpse the unruly auburn hair. She blinked furiously and swiped at her eyes. _Am I seeing her? Or did the drink do me in? _she wondered.

"Hello, mom," came the melodious voice she knew.

Gretchen opened her arms and her Katie fell into them, crushing her glasses that hung from a jeweled necklace from her neck. They both wept for what seemed like hours. "Mom, I've brought my family," Kathryn said finally.

Gretchen pulled back. "Family?"

She turned to see three girls—two blondes and redhead—standing there in stair-step height. "Are these your daughters?"

Gretchen turned at the sound of a strangled yelp caught in her daughter's throat. Kathryn was pale and her eyes were pained.

"What did I say?" Gretchen asked.

Then she heard snickers from the younger two girls, bringing her attention back to them. The tallest blonde stepped forward then, metal glinting at her eyebrow.

She offered a hand to Gretchen. "Hello, Mrs. Janeway, I am Kathryn's trophy wife."

Gretchen's angst turned to surprise and then pleasure. She tugged the hand, to pull the woman closer so she could engulf her in a bear hug. When she'd relinquished the woman, Gretchen put her glasses on. "I suppose I should I have put on my eyes before I made a spectacle of myself," she said, smiling at Kathryn. "No pun intended."

She heard a small, nervous laugh from her daughter. _When was my Katie nervous about anything?_ She wondered as she studied Seven and then both girls. "I apologize for making such of a mess of your first visit." Then she looked at her daughter, a little grieved.

Kathryn stiffened, glancing involuntarily at Seven and then back to her mother. Through her forced smile, Kathryn asked: "Mom? Are you all right?"

"No, dear, and I can't remember your new wife's name." She looked pleadingly at Seven. "Can you ever forgive an old woman?"

"You do not remember it because I have not offered it," Seven said. Then with a pointed glance at her wife, she added: "I was waiting for my spouse to make the proper introductions—"

"You're are so right, darling! I don't know what I was thinking." Kathryn placed an arm gingerly around her mother's shoulders. "Mom, may I present Seven of Nine."

"Seven of Nine?"

"Correct," the former drone said. "My designation."

"Your designation what?"

"That is to say, Seven of Nine is my designation."

Gretchen squinted, glancing at Seven's occipital implant. "Is that machinery over your eye?"

Seven touched it, revealing her chain-mail draped hand.

"Are you Borg?" Gretchen fell back a half step automatically.

"Mother, Seven was assimilated as a child, but she's human now." Kathryn's words were spoken so fast, the words blurred together. But Gretchen understood, especially when she witnessed the adoring look that Seven gave to Kathryn.

"Your daughter rescued me," Seven said.

Gretchen's laugh caught her by surprise. "Oh, is that why you are her _trophy_ wife?"

"No, she rescued me and I was a crew member for nearly two years. Then we became lovers and—"

"Seven!" Kathryn shouted. She gestured to the children who were watching the goings-on with wide eyes.

"I apologize, Kathryn," Seven said. "However, I was answering the question."

"That sounds a story for another time," Gretchen said graciously. By this time, she'd turned her sights on the children. The older one was taller than Kathryn and thin, but promised to be curvy. Gretchen walked cautiously toward the children. She almost touched Dani's hair and dropped her hand instead. "In her youth, Kathryn's hair was exactly this color."

Dani frowned and looked away.

Gretchen looked back at her daughter with worry. "Did I say something wrong?"

"It's not you," Kathryn whispered. "Dani doesn't like the color."

Kathryn brushed past Seven, tugging the lanky Borg by the hand as she did. "These are our daughters, Eridani is the older and Shannon is the younger."

The girls mumbled their pleasantries while Gretchen's eyes watered and she covered her open mouth. "It took you—how old are you?" she asked Dani.

"Almost sixteen."

Kathryn gave her eldest daughter an admonishing look. "I think you just turned fifteen, young lady."

Dani crinkled her nose at her mother and then returned her grandmother's smile.

"Fifteen? But you were only lost for—"

"I'll explain later, mom," she said. "Shannon—the baby—" Janeway could hear Dani mimicking the word "baby" under her breath trying to get a rise out of her sister, but the young girl ignored her. "She's seven."

"Seven?" Gretchen laid a hand on the young girl's shoulder. "You are taller than my daughter!" She looked down at the girl's figure. "My, and you're bustier, too."

It was Shannon's turn to frown. She punched Dani, after her older sister started giggling and repeating "bustier."

"Girls!" Kathryn said. "Please don't start. Not on the first day here."

"She started it!" Shannon cried.

Seven pointed a finger at Dani, whose mouth was already opened to respond. "Do not reply, Eridani."

Kathryn squeezed Seven's hip, pulling the woman to her side. "Good catch, babe," she whispered.

"It is us or them," Seven replied back, enunciating every syllable of Kathryn's war cry.

Kathryn winked at her, as she heard her mother ask if she could give the girls a hug. They both agreed, but were squeezed far longer than they anticipated, both giving aggrieved looks at their mothers over their grandmother's shoulder.

Gretchen pulled back, brushing at her cheeks. Kathryn withdrew a handkerchief and handed it to her. She accepted gratefully. "This is the best surprise of my life," she said through tears.

"You didn't know we were coming?" Kathryn asked incredulously. "It's all over the news."

"Oh, you know I haven't listened to that hornswaggle in years," she said. "But I did get a call a week ago from Starfleet Command. They said they had news about you and would send a representative on today's stardate. I was desperate for a hint. Then Phoebe and I decided it was probably bad because good news couldn't be kept to themselves."

"Well, I'm not sure why they didn't give you some assurances," Kathryn said, sweeping her gaze across the wrap-around porch. "Where is Phoebe?" She turned to whisper in her wife's ear that was her sister, while her mother started to reply.

"She was on the Trill Homeworld, trying to get a shuttle home after I had a subspace message delivered to her there. She'll—"

"The Trill homeworld?" Kathryn said. "Did she have an art exhibit there or something?"

"Now, Kathryn, you know I can't tell you a thing about Phoebe. She'll whine about raining on her parade for weeks."

"That's true, I suppose."

"She'll be here possibly tomorrow though. So you won't have to wait too long to hear about her adventures. It was the best she could do."

Kathryn smiled widely. "I can't wait to see her."

"She'll be pleased as well!"

Gretchen turned her attention to the children, whose beautiful cherub faces she could scarcely keep from pinching. "Kids, do you want some chocolate cake and milk?"

Their unanimous cheer drowned out Seven's objection. They followed their grandmother happily while their parents were stuck with the dubious task of bringing in the copious luggage.

Seven glanced around. "Kathryn, where do you think your mother stores the anti-gravity platforms?"

Kathryn forced a breathy laugh. "Nowhere," she said. "The only reason she has a transporter is because of my father."

Seven arched a brow vexingly. "So there are no modern amenities?"

Kathryn made a serious look. "Well, I know she finally moved the water closet inside about fifteen years ago."

"Water closet as in…"

"Ensuite, yes," Kathryn said, smoothing Seven's shoulder comfortingly with a hand.

"The Borg would find this farm unworthy of assimilation," Seven said, looking around at the chickens clucking in the yard and the red paint peeling from the red barn by the pond.

Kathryn snorted. "You say that like it's a bad thing, darling."

Seven swiveled sharply to meet her spouse's amused look. "Technology…comforts me," she finally admitted.

Kathryn's expression softened and she enveloped Seven in a hug. "It'll be fun, my darling," she said. "I promise."

Seven dipped her head and captured Kathryn's lips in a searing kiss. "I shall enjoy our time together here, where neither Hirogen nor Borg can hunt us."

They heard the slap of a screen door, followed by loud call. "Kathryn! Seven! Aren't you done yet?"

Kathryn let her head loll down, placing her forehead on Seven's shoulders. "We may be safe from Hirogen and Borg, but not my mother."

Gretchen appeared at the edge of the shaded porch, wiping her hands with a white ruffled apron. "Would you girls care for some coffee?"

"Yes, thanks, Mom," Kathryn said.

Gretchen lingered for a moment and then turned to leave. At the last minute she pivoted back. "Mind your manners, Katie," she said, nodding once for emphasis.

"Yes, ma'am," Kathryn said, dropping her arms from Seven's waist.

When she'd gone, Kathryn placed her hands on her hips, surveying the eight pieces of luggage. "Well, darling," she said. "Welcome to the Nineteenth Century."

=/\=

The Janeway living room was a throwback to bygone comforts. Twin couches, covered in coral floral prints, sat at right angles to each other in the center of the dark wood room. A roaring fire place—a real one with real heat and crackling wood—filled the expansive room with warmth. Gretchen Janeway, white hair a bright spot in the dim room, sat perched on the sofa nearest the chair. Judging by the stacks of books on the floor beside it, it was her customary throne.

She raised a mug of coffee to her lips, but stopped midway. She noticed how relaxed her daughter looked on the big sofa. Katie was sipping her own mug of coffee and nestled back into her wife, Seven. A hand was casually dropped to Seven's crossed knee, where every once in a while, Kathryn would squeeze it playfully or tap it as she spoke. Sometimes Katie would even loll her head back, when she spoke to Seven.

Seven draped an arm along the back of the couch and listened intently. She was a quiet one, which Gretchen supposed was exactly what her Katie needed.

Gretchen brought her gaze again to Katie, who seemed to notice her inspection.

"Mom," Katie said. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she said with a wave of the hand. "I'm just not used to staying up so late."

Seven bolted forward, shoving Kathryn so hard, she spilled her coffee on her green blouse. Kathryn squawked, earning a tempered apology from the Borg. "Mrs. Janeway, we did not mean to disrupt your schedule. Perhaps you should retire before the hour grows later."

"Thank you, Seven," she said, with wry amusement. "But all I want to hear about is your little family." She glanced at the stairs behind them. "Those girls are a real delight. You both should be proud of them."

"Oh, we are," Kathryn said, dabbing her shirt with a napkin that Seven had offered placatingly. "But they certainly have their moments."

"They remind me of a pair of sisters I once knew way back when."

Kathryn stopped in mid blot. "I don't think Phoebe and I were ever that bad," she said with a frown. "Well, at least not me."

Just then the trio heard dogs barking and chickens squawking outside, a loud thud on the porch followed by a small invective. The door pushed open, banging against a small table. A disheveled Phoebe Janeway peered in. "Is Katie already taking credit for something?" she asked with a patented Janeway crooked smile.

Phoebe was engulfed in a sisterly hug. Phoebe was her sister's height but with wavy raven-black hair that fell to her shoulders. Her eyes were the same indigo blue though. "Oh, Katie," she said. "I thought we'd never see you again!"

Her sister's wail finally broke Kathryn's dam of tears and they both sobbed on each other's shoulders.

"How do you like that?" Gretchen said to Seven. "She probably hasn't cried in fifteen years, has she?"

Kathryn pulled back, wiping a tear. "Have, too," she protested.

Seven turned to watch the siblings. "You are both correct. Kathryn has indeed cried in the ten years I have known her. But never like this."

Phoebe stepped forward, offering her hand to the now-standing Borg. "Phoebe Zell."

Seven clasped her hand. "Seven of Nine."

"Phoebs," Kathryn said, taking Seven's hand. "This is my wife."

Phoebe turned slowly with wide eyes to take Seven in again. Then she crinkled her nose and punched her sister's arm. "This is just like you!"

Kathryn rubbed her arm. "What?! And that hurt!"

"It's always been this way!—It's nice to meet you, Seven!—but Katie drives me space happy—and not in a good way!"

"I just spent fifteen years in the Delta Quadrant. What could I have possibly done to inconvenience you?" Kathryn rolled her eyes and tossed a dramatic hand up.

Phoebe ignored Katie and focused on Seven, whose eyebrow and eyepiece rose and fell with the flick of Phoebe's hyperactive gesturing. "I wanted to play soccer, so Katie becomes a tennis champ. I wanted to study physics and she gets a doctorate in cosmology. I wanted to join the Alliance for Federation Peace and she joins the bullshit Earth-centric patriarchal militaristic paradigm of Starfleet—"

"Wow," Kathryn said, urging her spouse and everyone to sit down. "That was quite a mouthful."

Phoebe ignored her sister and remained standing, her hands punctuating key words. "I'm not done."

Kathryn sat back against the couch and waved her hand. "Oh, do go on," she said.

"No, don't!" Gretchen said.

"She will anyway, Seven," Kathryn said, tugging at her biosuit. "You might as well sit, darling."

Despite the exchange of huffed words, Seven could see amusement dancing along Kathryn's her eyes and mouth. This, in turn, caused her to relax enough to lean back into the sofa.

"Mom," Phoebe said. "I'm going somewhere with this. Can you bear with me?"

Gretchen threw herself back also, her chin in hand. She flicked a finger casually, on what Seven thought with a gesture that was a faint echo of Kathryn's.

"So I marry a Trill and she marries a woman!"

Kathryn jumped up, taking her sister in her arms. "Congratulations!" she pulled back. "When did you get married?"

"Two years now."

She hugged her again. "Congratulations, two years late."

"You too!"

She took her perch back by Seven. "I wondered where Zell came from. So he's a Trill. Is that his symbiot's name?"

Phoebe nodded. "Oh, yes. I had to take the name," she said, adding with no small amount of melodrama: "It was like a requirement for the _ages_!" She stared at the couple as they went to hold hands. "So what about the two of you?"

"Nine years," Seven replied evenly.

"Wow! That's quite a long time to be stuck with the 'golden child.'"

"Don't start that, Phoebe," her mother and sister said in unison.

"Oh, I missed my stereo," Phoebe said with a smile. She turned to look at Seven again. "What's with the jewelry, Seven?"

"It is not personal adornment," she said. "I am Borg."

Phoebe slapped her forehead with a palm. "Geez!"

"What?" Kathryn asked.

"I marry a symbiot and you have to marry a Borg. But damn, Katie!"

Kathryn's smile turned smug.

"Has your sister always trailed you?" Seven inquired.

Kathryn threw her head back, but before she could respond to Seven's inquiry there was a loud thud heard upstairs. She pushed herself up from her knees and stepped quickly to the bottom of the stairs. She craned her neck and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Okay, you two! Lights out was an hour ago!"

Giggles subsided to quiet. Kathryn loomed for a brief moment and walked back toward the couch. "I need more coffee. Would anyone care for something?"

"Wait a minute," Phoebe said, pointing upward. "Who are 'you two'?"

Kathryn touched Seven's shoulder. "We have two daughters, Dani and Shannon."

"Two?" Phoebe dropped her chin and held her forehead in a hand.

"Was she always this melodramatic?" Kathryn asked her mother.

"Yes," she said. "You both were."

Phoebe shook her head and looked at Seven. "It took Kathryn going to another Quadrant to finally give our mom what she's always wanted most…grandchildren. And Katie gives her not one but two!"

"Well, you and your husband—what's his name?"

"Korai."

"You and Korai better get busy, sister." Kathryn sauntered out of the room. She returned quickly with the tray of steaming coffee and more cups. "We've got a lot of catching up to do."

=/\=

It was a small bedroom, with a metal-framed full-sized bed centered against the far wall. Rust at the welded joints of the headboard marred the design. But the couple lying underneath a white linen sheet, a heavy geometric quilt and a floral bedspread did not seem to mind until a stinging ray of light burned the eyelids of a still-sleeping Kathryn.

"Why is light brighter when you're asleep?" she mumbled against the pillow as she pulling the covers up.

"Yet it is not," Seven, who was lying beside the woman but fully awake. "Sol's luminosity has remained constant for the past six billion years."

"Tha's you're opinion," Kathryn murmured.

Seven pulled the covers around her shoulder and then scooted closer to Kathryn's naked form. "I will concede however the environmental controls of your childhood home are…lacking," she said.

Kathryn made a gravelly laugh. "You think?" she said, edging closer and causing the bed to creak.

"I know," Seven said seriously. "The ambient temperature in this room is 11.2 degrees centigrade."

Kathryn lifted her head and kissed Seven's cold nose. "Wait until you use the bathroom," she said with a humorous lilt.

Seven's brows flashed unsure for a moment. "The ambient temperature between two rooms would not be radically different, as temperature spread over an entire edifice will remain generally constant."

"You think so? Well, you ain't seen nothing yet," Kathryn slurred with a chuckle.

Again confusion marred Seven's lovely features. "You have used a double negative which suggests that I have seen many things."

Kathryn finally opened a single eye. The corner of her mouth tugged into gentle smile. "It's an expression," she said. "It's means that you haven't begun to experience life as a traditionalist. But just wait."

Seven let her hand glide along Kathryn's body, skimming over ribs and finally buttock. "I believe," she whispered into the woman's ear, "that it has been a most satisfying experience thus far."

Seven's fingers slipped in between her legs to play with the moisture found there. To Seven's gentle exploration, Janeway parted her legs and lifted her hips to invite deeper entry. The bed whined under the sudden shift of body weight, but the couple was heedless.

"My proof," Seven whispered again, as she barely allowed her fingertips to tease some of the fluids from her sex.

Janeway leaned backward, trying to impale herself on the tormenting fingers. But Seven merely swayed with Kathryn, making union elusive.

Kathryn, already on all fours, let her head loll down. Her hair cascaded over like a red tide. "Seven," she said in a tortured voice.

"Do you not agree—?"

"Yes! I agree," Kathryn hissed. And before she'd even finished conceding the discussion, Seven stabbed her. The pleasure of being filled erupted through the woman. The squeaking of the bed kept time with Kathryn's cries of release.

Kathryn collapsed to the mattress with a hard thud, the cover abandoned by her feet and the cold forgotten. Breathing hard into her pillow, she opened a single eye to measure the Borg. "You're pleased with yourself, aren't you?"

Seven only tipped her head, unable—or unwilling—to hide her haughty Borg expression. "I am only pleased that you are pleased," she whispered.

"Pleased more times in the past two days than in the entire last year," Kathryn said, closing her eyes again.

Seven pulled the covers around her and Kathryn and she pulled in closer. As the Borg moved, Kathryn could smell their intermingled scent. "Give me a minute, darling," she said. "I'll return the favor."

"Not necessary," Seven replied. "I am content with lying beside you."

Kathryn heard the faint sound of dishes clanging and muffled voices. "God," she murmured. "Is everyone awake already?"

Seven craned her neck to listen. "Incorrect," she stated in a monotone. "Gretchen, Eridani and Shannon Astrid are awake with your children complaining of extreme malnutrition."

Kathryn chuckled while Seven fell silent for a moment before continuing. "Now your maternal unit is providing them a pre-breakfast snack of chocolate cake while she prepares pancakes," Seven said while sparing no amount of disapproval.

"My children, eh?" Kathryn snickered.

"To the best of my Borg hearing, Phoebe Zell remains ensconced in the Blue Room."

"Oh, I'm sure she's up since mom's sewing room is next to the kitchen," Kathryn said with a sigh. "I'll bet I get an earful about the beauty sleep she's lost." Kathryn sighed again and heaved herself up from the bed. "And I'll be wonderful to you today and go first."

"How is that wonderful to me?" Seven asked, with confusion wrinkling her brow for the third time this morning.

"Because I'll warm up the bathroom for you, my twenty-first century darling, that's how." She pecked Seven on the lips and hooted to the bathroom, complaining of the spring cold.

=/\=

Gretchen Janeway's kitchen was large, with brown wood flooring under light brown counters. In one corner was a stove, with blue flames warming iron skillets. Gretchen was standing in front of a beige countertop, coaching Shannon as she poised a ladle over the searing griddle to pour thick batter onto it.

"Just do it," Gretchen said gently. "It's okay if batter spills. That's just part of cooking."

Shannon seemed to inhale deeply, her shoulders rising and she dumped the ladle over. The sizzle of the griddle heralded her success.

"Excellent," Gretchen said. "I think you'll both have earned your breakfast this morning."

"My turn," Dani said, jumping off of the countertop perch beside where her grandmother stood.

Shannon passed off the ladle and Dani positioned herself in front of the large mixing bowl and scooped up the content.

Janeway exchanged a pleased look with Seven before giving her mother a quick peck on the cheek. "Good morning, mom," she said.

Gretchen twisted her hand and awkwardly patted her daughter's ear, all without her eyes leaving her grandchildren. "Good morning, Katie," she said. "You too, Seven." She pointed toward the counter on the far end. "Coffee's ready."

=/\=

Kathryn and Seven lingered at the breakfast table, dirty dishes still stacked in front of them. Kathryn sipped her coffee, watching her mother showing the girls how to prepare the sink for plate washing.

There was a faint patter of feet and Phoebe trudged through across the room to the back door. She was wearing red pajamas with white petal designs under a thick blue bathrobe and pink slippers as she hauled open the heavy door. She disappeared behind it without a word.

A moment later, she reappeared and slammed an antique oil can on the table beside Katie. "You'll need this tonight," she growled as she turned toward the coffee pot.

Seven looked askance at the dirty metal can with the longneck spigot. "What is this construct?" she inquired.

"An oil can," Kathryn said with a hint of contempt.

Seven's face turned from befuddlement to open wonder. "But how…?" she said, lifting the can to peer at it more closely.

Kathryn swallowed a soft laugh. "Not for _us_, Seven," she said. "For the bed—the noisy bed."

Understanding lit her face, as she set the can down with a soft thud. Phoebe set a full plate of semi-burned hotcakes down beside her sister-in-law as she took up the empty spot next to her.

"This would be unnecessary," Seven said softly to Phoebe, "to conceal our sexual congress if the bedding were not so antiquated."

Phoebe started to choke down her coffee as Kathryn closed her eyes with a small grunt of disapproval. "Seven," Kathryn whispered, chancing a quick glance in her mother's direction. She shook her head.

Phoebe worked her mouth in humor as she carefully set her coffee mug down. "Tell me, Seven," she said with a laughter-laced voice. "are you accustomed to so much sleep deprivation?"

Kathryn frowned, understanding the double entrendre of her prying sister's question. But once again, Seven narrowed her eyes on Phoebe Janeway, as if she were missing some bit of vital data. "Sleep deprivation was often an operational hazard aboard a starship with a limited crew," she said seriously.

"I'll just bet," Phoebe said, with a wink.

Seven stared at Phoebe for a long minute and then at Kathryn in bewilderment. "I'll explain later," she whispered before growling at her sister. "Phoebe, lay off."

"Explain now," Seven ordered peremptorily.

Kathryn opened her mouth to speak when there was a faint knock at the front door. "I'll get it," she jumped up and left without giving her sister or spouse any opportunity to respond.

=/\=

Kathryn sauntered to the front door, a figure darkening the door windows through the buttercup curtains hung there. "Coming," she said. She pulled the door open.

An Irish setter leapt up on her and a tall dark figure loomed close, both surprised with each other.

"Mark," she said while he uttered, "Katie?"

Kathryn playfully rubbed the dog's furry neck, its paws resting on her shoulders.

"She remembers you," Mark said.

Kathryn snapped up. "It really was you on that moon…"

"And Molly," he said.

Kathryn knew this wasn't her Molly, though it was hard to know the difference. This was her dog's great-granddog, who had shared a moment on a far moon in the Delta Quadrant.

The dog laved her face and she lifted her chin, trying to escape the canine onslaught. "Oh, Mark," she whispered.

As she heard the kitchen door swing open, Mark turned to someone in the yard. "Come on, JT," he said. "I want you to meet someone."

"Aww, dad," came the reply.

By this time, Molly had sprinted to the person behind her.

"A lingual greeting is unnecessary," Seven said, trying to keep the dog at arm's length.

The Borg's skittishness only encouraged the Irish setter and she barked. It brought Gretchen out from behind the door, along with Phoebe.

"What in the world?" Gretchen said, as the dog bounded toward Kathryn's mother. Gretchen placated the dog with a few pats and allowed some licks but then brushed it aside. "Mark Johnson?"

Mark stepped into the house, a little sheepish. "I came by to make sure you were okay, Gretchen," he said, stuffing his hands in his pocket. "I didn't know…" His voice trailed.

"I called Mark after I received the communique from Starfleet," Gretchen explained, gliding past Kathryn. "I was afraid it was bad news and I wanted to…"

She engulfed Mark in a hug, one he readily returned. "I'm glad it worked out," he said, releasing the old woman.

Just then, JT appeared at the door. He was a dark-haired child with sparkling blue eyes. His nose was red from the chilly spring day.

"Is this your son?" Gretchen asked.

Mark put a hand on the boy's shoulder and gently guided him into the room. "Ladies, this is my son, JT. These are my friends," he said down to the boy. "Say hello."

He lifted a hand and waved.

Gretchen admired the boy. "He looks like a miniature Hobbes," she said, speaking of the boy who was once Mark Johnson. She held out a hand. "The girls are in the kitchen. Do you want to meet them?"

He looked up at his dad, who nodded. JT skipped over and took Gretchen's hand. "Do you like chocolate cake?" she asked, as the two disappeared behind the kitchen door.

Mark looked at Kathryn nervously and then at Seven of Nine. He took a step forward, his hand extended. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of actually meeting you, though I've carried you," he said with an ingenuous grin. "Mark Johnson."

"Seven of Nine," she said, gripping his hand with a stern look.

He looked to Phoebe who playfully batted his hand away. "Hugs," she said, enveloping the man who was taller than her by a head. "How have you been, Mark?"

"Good," he said. "But I worried when I received a call from your mother about the impending Starfleet announcement." He glanced cheerfully at Kathryn. "But relieved it was one of their ploys."

Kathryn indicated for everyone to sit, offering Mark a cup of coffee. She exited to retrieve a service tray when she heard Phoebe inquire: "So what's this about you carrying Kathryn's wife."

Kathryn was relieved to remain busy.

=/\=

In the kitchen, she watched as JT finished a slice of chocolate cake, dark icing circling his mouth. He was watching Shannon, who was drawing a picture of Voyager for him. "This is the saucer," she said, carefully labeling it.

In typical fashion, her mother already had another pot brewing and she was chopping vegetables for the noon meal. "Do you think Mark will stay for lunch?" she asked.

Kathryn made a noncommittal grunt until her eldest daughter's expression caught her eye. "Dani, are you okay?"

Dani was standing at the table, staring at the boy. "What's the matter?" Kathryn whispered into her daughter's ear.

She turned her head, her eyes never leaving the boy. "I'll tell you later," she whispered.

Kathryn frowned. She was hoping to deal with whatever was clearly bothering her teenage daughter. She would prefer to face any amount of adolescent drama to avoid the painful angst of an ex-fiancé and a now-conscious Borg-wife together in the same room.

Kathryn brushed her hand lightly along Dani's arm. "You sure, darling?"

Dani rolled her eyes. "Yes," she said in a sing-song voice, finally allowing her indigo eyes to meet her mother's.

Kathryn's expression softened. "Okay, fine," she said. "I've got coffee to deliver anyway."

=/\=

A few days later, Dani walked into the kitchen. Her brown lace work boots—her mother's old ones that her grandmother had given to her—trailed mud behind her. She slapped some dirty work gloves on the counter, unbuttoned a wool-lined denim jacket, opened a cupboard and took out a glass. She pumped the green, cast-iron water spigot a few times before catching the cool stream with the glass.

She tipped her head back and downed the glass in one gulp. Then she repeated the process from the pumping station. When she'd finished, she wiped her mouth with sleeve and left the glass in the sink.

She turned on her heels to find her Borg mother staring at her. "Eridani," Seven said. "You have contaminated your grandmother's decking with soil."

Just then, Gretchen Janeway sauntered in, also dressed in work attire. She tossed her red cowboy hat to the counter and began to pour herself some water as she listened to the exchange.

Dani peered at the trail she'd left. "Oh, yeah," she said, removing the black cowboy hat from her head. She wiped her forehead before replacing it.

"I guess I didn't see it."

"You will cleanse the path, along with the surrounding hardwood boards with cleanser and dihydrogen monoxide."

Gretchen carefully placed her glass in the sink beside the other. She waved her daughter-in-law off. "Oh, that'll keep, Seven," she said.

"But your home was spotless when we arrived," Seven said, not understanding this turn of events.

"Thank you," Gretchen said, taking a plate of biscuits out of a cupboard and offering one to Dani. "What I mean is, we'll just sweep it up when it dries. No harm, no foul."

Dani smiled self-righteously. "Good idea, Gigi," she said, around a mouthful of biscuits.

Seven narrowed her eyes on her daughter. "You are overindulging these subunits," Seven accused gently.

"Nonsense," Gretchen snapped. "And if I am, it's my prerogative."

Seven was about to argue, when Kathryn stepped into the kitchen. "Oh, darling," she said, stepping closer. "There you are. I was looking for you."

Dani and Gretchen began to talk and laugh over the antics of one of the cows so Seven realized her opportunity to circumvent mutiny was lost. "Yes, Kathryn," she said stiffly.

"Commander Powers asked to come by today," Kathryn said.

"Will she be bringing a shuttle?" Seven asked, steeping closer to a kitchen window to calculate space requirements among the chicken coop and the barn.

"No, no," Kathryn said. "I told her to just use the transporter in my father's study."

"Ah," Seven said, turning away sharply from the view. "I had overlooked that bit of modern convenience."

Kathryn searched Seven's face for a long moment. "Are you feeling bereft of technology my twenty-fourth century darling?" Kathryn ran a thumb along Seven's jawline.

Seven sighed and raised her organic hand for Kathryn's inspection. "Your mother diagnosed me with dermatitis," she said.

Kathryn looked sympathetic as she tenderly took the red hand in her own. She tried to caress it light but Seven flinched. "I've never heard of that happening," she whispered, looking up. "And what of your nanoprobes?"

"I have traversed the entirety of two quadrants of the galaxy. I have catalogued the birth and death of stars, both magnificent and miniscule. I have encountered new sentient species whose very existence defy the laws of physics. My nanoprobes proved defeated by the frequency of exposure."

"Is it an allergic reaction?"

"She's got dishpan hands, Katie," Gretchen said.

The two women looked over at Gretchen who colored a bit. "Sorry for eavesdropping," she said.

"Don't worry about it, Gigi," Dani said, rising from the table with the empty plate. "Shay and I do it all the time."

"Dishpan hands?" Kathryn said incredulously. "My Borg wife has been undone by irritating soap?"

"Dirty dishes," Gretchen said. "I told her to use the gloves. But she kept telling me, 'I am Borg.'" Gretchen shrugged. "So we find out even the Borg are capable of dishpan hands."

"What can we do?" Kathryn said, turning her attention back to her spouse's red, scaly skin. "Do you have a dermal regenerator?" Even before Kathryn finished the question, she knew the answer.

"Oh, piss on dermal regenerators!" Gretchen said, standing up to rifle through the pantry. "Ah ha!" she said triumphantly, emerging from the pantry holding a jar of golden green liquid.

Kathryn took the jar and angled it up to the light, trying to read a hand-written label. "What is this?"

"Olive oil," she said. "Just rub it in until you feel better and no more dishes, Seven. Can you listen to an old woman?"

Kathryn returned her attention to the label. "Dani can do the dishes."

"Me? I did the dishes yesterday! What about Shannon?"

Kathryn looked up with a frown, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Okay," Dani acquiesced. "Then that means the Shannon has to clean out the barn." Dani looked up in contemplation. "Fair 'nough."

Gretchen laughed and shook her head. "You girls," she murmured.

There was a loud Starfleet whistle issuing from the study. "That's Commander Powers," she said. Kathryn looked at the jar she was holding and her spouse. "Darling, do you think—"

Seven opened her hand in request. "Yes, Kathryn," she replied. "I am entirely capable of applying the fat of the Olea europaea fruit to my epidermis."

Kathryn gingerly placed the cold jar into Seven's hand. She leaned into the woman, pressed their lips together and then executed a perfect Starfleet three-point turn.

Dani slipped off, following her mother to the living room. "Can I come?" she asked.

"Fine," she said, "But stay out of the way."

"Aye, Cappie," she said. "I mean AJ."

Kathryn stepped in to find Lt. Commander Taliesin Powers dressed in a Starfleet uniform with a science blue undershirt. Kathryn shook Powers hand. "Commander," she said. "It's good to see you."

"And you, Admiral." She glanced at Dani with a look of surprise. "Miss Janeway."

Dani's face soured at the moniker. But quickly let it dissolve as she let her hand glide along the dark wood desk in the middle of the bookcase-lined room. "Are you going to get to stay long?" she asked.

Powers seemed a little off balanced by the question. But it was a momentary lapse that gave way to Starfleet façade. "Unfortunately, not," she replied. "But I do have news for the Admiral."

Dani stared at the woman, unblinking.

"Dani," Kathryn said.

"We're having pork tenderloin with persimmon pudding for dessert," she said.

Powers nodded appreciatively. "Sounds divine," she replied. "However, I'm due back at Starfleet headquarters within the half hour."

Kathryn couldn't help but offer her daughter a sympathetic look, as she passed. _Dani's got puppy love,_ Kathryn thought. She smoothed the girl's shoulder as she passed, even smiling when she heard her mutter "Stupid Starfleet" on her way out.

=/\=

Kathryn sat behind her father's desk. She tugged the chain pull of the green-shaded banker's light on the corner, giving them more light. "Would you care for something to drink?" she gestured to the bar to her right, by the large picture window.

"No, thank you, Admiral," she said.

"At ease, Commander," Kathryn said, gesturing to one of the overstuffed leather couches in front of the desk.

Lt. Powers drew her brows together. "Thank you, Admiral," she said. "But I am at ease."

Kathryn studied the mismatched eyes and the chiseled features for a moment as she leaned back into the dark leather chair. "Let's have it," Kathryn said finally said. She expected Commander Powers to make her apologies for the promotion offer and depart within a quarter of an hour.

Instead, Powers handed her a padd. "Starfleet tracked the Ferengis responsible for your near abduction," she said.

Kathryn thumbed through the information, her expression turning cross the more she read. A grave look met the dapper Commander.

Kathryn arched a brow vexingly. "I shouldn't be surprised," she said, as she skimmed the contents of the report. "But I am." She dropped the padd and stared at the Commander. "What were they planning—" Kathryn gestured to the padd. "It doesn't say, but I can read between the lines. You know something about their intentions."

"They planned to…enlist Commodore Seven of Nine's assistance with several key Ferengi science projects."

"Enlist? That's voluntary," the Admiral noted needlessly.

"The mode of enlistment was incidental to the Ferengi."

Kathryn stared at the Commander, realizing that she knew more than was saying. "Are you saying they would have kidnapped her and harvested her Borg implants?"

"Possibly," she said.

"Were these Ferengis captured?"

For the first time, Kathryn saw emotion flicker across the woman's face. "Unfortunately not," she said. "Starfleet has deemed these charges…." She shrugged.

Kathryn nodded in understanding. "There are bigger fish to fry," she said.

"I am sorry," Powers said quietly.

Kathryn shook her head. "You have no reason to be," she said, looking down at the padd. "I suppose that's that."

"For the time being," Powers added, "but Admiral Patterson asked me to convey to you that Starfleet will remain vigilant on the matter."

"That's comforting," Kathryn said, with the merest hint of a sneer.

Powers tipped her head and furrowed her brows, which in turn caused Kathryn to rise and wave the matter off. "So have you decided, Commander? About joining me at Starfleet Headquarters?"

Powers nodded once, offering a hand to shake. "Yes, Admiral. It will be my distinct pleasure to serve as your assistant."

"Excellent," she said. "Then I'll see you in two months, after my honeymoon."

Powers moved back to the small transporter pad. "I look forward to working with you, Admiral."

The End

**A/N: Thanks again for reading the story. I hope you've enjoyed it. If you did, please say so. It's how I get "paid." **

**The next story in the series will be titled "Rip In Time" and will follow Dani, Shannon, AJ and Seven through Starfleet Academy and beyond. **


End file.
